In her latest extended play offering, Milwaukee folk/jazz singer-songwriter carisa shares a wide emotional breadth in five songs. In this way, repotting stands as a microcosm of many young single adults' reality nowadays. Though guarded regarding any toxic relationships that could upset her emotional wellbeing, she gushes over her pet dog, about whom she wonders whether the pooch can understand her speech. And though carisa makes time to mentor and nurture a friend given to melancholy, she returns to self-care and refection by the time she's done singing her piece. And that may because of a significant other's abuse both emotional and physical.
Throughout repotting, carisa strays little from the youthful, fragile upper register of her soprano voice, adding ironic poignance to her more pointed lyrics. As with her past efforts, it sounds like she overdubs her own voice for most of the background vocals here, which shows the wonders of modern DIY recording processes and carisa's own pluck; but it's a small delight when the guarded artist allows another in her mostly insular sphere (including the barks of her canine companion).
Her musical accompaniment mostly twinkles and sparkles with keyboard tones, but intermittent, pronounced bass underscores the emotional heft of some of her sentiments. Joni Mitchell and Sarah McLachlan would be easy comparisons to draw and probable influences on carisa's artistry. A half-decade into her recording career, however, she evidences finding her own path in a way that beckons further listening.
