Erika M. Anderson emerged from the ashes of Gowns to turn out a solo record of anxious, guitar-driven noise folk. She lays bare new scars in every song, each one an angry hymn over a grinding hum. They aren’t always pretty, but were likely never meant to be. When Anderson sings “I’m just 22/I don’t mind dying” in “California,” it’s a reminder of how many more years of suffering this young artist (only six years older, in real life) could have left in her. Here’s hoping that’s not the case, but we’ll count ourselves lucky if they lead to more albums as wonderfully damaged as this one. By Austin Trunick