Mustang Island, the third album from Austin-based band Little Mazarn, is a gentle force. Waves of grief crest like surf on the Texas coast. Wild horses break through long-shuttered gates, only to come back around. Lead songwriter, vocalist, and multi-instrumentalist Lindsey Verrill (she/her) joins bandmates Jeff Johnston (he/him) and Carolina Chauffe (they/them). The core members cast out seventeen years apart in both directions, placing the project at the cusp of multiple generations.

The balance of acoustic instruments and electric effects on Mustang Island also thrives firmly in the in-between. The ten-song collection continues work with Dear Life Records (MJ Lenderman, Fust). A full-throated romp through the capabilities of community-minded songcraft, Mustang Island is both naturalistic and futuristic, completely recasting Little Mazarn’s origins in primitive folk. Instead, the band reaches towards sonic experimentation and spacious expansion.

Lindsey’s heart-opening vocals and Jeff’s singing saw, both trademarks of the project, mix with unexpected bombastic drums, dissonant synthesizers, and a chorus of orchestral oddities. Shaking off any genre and geographic boundaries, Mustang Island manages to swirl its creators’ love for The Beach Boys’ melodic rock, wise Southern singer-songwriters, and never-too-much ambient minimalism. This mid-career ode dances confidently in the creative liberties granted by decades in the game – more dazzlingly lively, and honestly somber, than ever before.