. Davis’s debut album Self-Entitled introduces a familiar brand of mellow pop akin to Mac Demarco, Kurt Vile, or Vetiver. While these tunes never dip into the psychedelia those comparisons might imply, a similar laid-back vibe carries the album from start to finish.  The vocals occupy a deep register, which make Beat Happening and Magnetic Fields mentions inevitable. Magnetic Fields in particular is a solid RIYL – these are downtrodden twee gems much in the vein of Stephen Merrit’s magnum opus. And while there aren’t 99 of them, St. Davis does pack twenty songs onto this debut.

If that sounds like a lot of music, keep in mind that rarely do the songs clock in beyond two minutes. The longest, “Had No Idea,” tops out at 2:15. Quick songs don’t mean these aren’t fully realized, though. Each song has a distinct identity and achieves its potential, defined mostly by the rhythmic lyricism and subtle sonic embellishments. Even as they differ, there is a consistent mood to the entire album. St. Davis seems disinterested in dynamics – we stay at a relatively steady decibel level and relatively steady BPMs. There's no point at which St. Davis reaches for catharsis. This is no fireworks show; its more like a box of sparklers, each one burning bright and delightful one after another.

Unlike burning through a box of sparklers, though, Self-Entitled doesn’t merely retread the same formula with each song. Some are verse-chorus-verse affairs, and others, like “Never Not Liked Breathing,” hopscotche from one chord to another as though there’s no progression to speak of, depending on melody to make sense of the changes. “More or Less” has a relatively rocking feel w/ electric guitars. Some songs employ electronic drums, some offer up clever time signatures, some incorporate additional instruments and sonic elements (such as the tasteful backing vocals in early highlight “You Don’t Feel the Way I Do” and the pianos and synths in the Neil Young-esque “In My Mind”).

There’s a lo-fi soul to this music even if the fidelity is warm and inviting. Nothing sounds overworked or fussed over in the production, and the songwriting underscores that commitment to minimalism. These songs include just what they need to exist, nothing more. Yet there’s a vitality to each and every song on Self-Entitled that insists on its existence. It’s an impressive display of skill and curiosity without sounding, at any point, self-entitled.