Even as the strings of “Lithonia” swoop romantically into their own reflection – like a dove playfully greeting itself in a mirror – there are glints of violence bubbling between the majestic melodic arcs. Sure enough, the rest of Overdue plays out this prophesised feud between palatial grandeur and the seething unrest stowed away within; no sooner does the album let forth streams of ruby red and emerald light through its windows – showering over immaculately symmetrical sculptures of minor key and Haley Fohr’s indulgent belly vibrato – than a muscular outburst beats its way out of the doors, tearing down Overdue’s amicable façade to let a more primitive catharsis take hold.
Such a dialogue takes place within a sort of ornamented singer-songwriter cocoon, draping the dry bones of guitar of voice with damp percussion, slapback delays…sometimes even just an un-gated stream of interference filtering in as if through a gap in the blinds. “Acarina” is an apt demonstration of how Fohr’s internal feud develops into something more exaggerated and sinister: a simple guitar loop soon becomes the mantra that coaxes out a blizzard of white noise and erratic, animalistic yelps, turning troubling thought into a bleak midnight ritual in a matter of minutes. Even the moments of quiet that carry Overdue house the buds of sinister activity, and while there’s a certain fascination in witnessing glints of inner turmoil breed into a seething outward aggression, it’s a deeply disconcerting experience too.