Shir Frum // This Is The Cake

There is something quietly disarming about hearing an album this carefully arranged feel so unguarded. On This Is The Cake, Tel Aviv singer-songwriter Shir Frum turns depression, health, family, love, and the smaller negotiations of everyday life into songs that rarely announce the weight they are carrying. Written largely at home and produced with Yotam Agam, Frum’s second album for Raw Tapes unfolds through softly strummed guitars, patient rhythm sections, piano, cello, clarinet, and occasional brass, giving the record the warmth of chamber folk without sacrificing intimacy. Her voice remains its center of gravity, low and velvety one moment, airy and exposed the next, carrying traces of Leonard Cohen’s understatement and Jessica Pratt’s dreamlike remove without settling neatly into either lineage. “Shaded Spots,” “Chance to Fly,” and “Comforting” make particularly good use of that restraint, while the fuller arrangements of “All Of My Love” and “Talking Way Too Much” reveal how carefully Frum and Agam use space, allowing individual instruments to enter like thoughts rather than decorations. “Dance Floor” adds trumpet and a subtle rhythmic lift without breaking the album’s inward spell. Frum has described This Is The Cake as rawness covered in elegant wrapping paper, and the contradiction suits it. These are songs shaped by private battles but presented with uncommon composure, turning the everyday rooms where much of the record was made into a small, beautifully furnished world of their own.