Salami Rose Joe Louis might sound like the perfect name for a delta blues country act, but it is in fact the alias of Lindsay Olsen. Getting her debut in music playing a blender, yup, the appliance, in a punk band, and studying ocean acidic levels, Olsen has been releasing music under the moniker since 2016. She is now on Flying Lotus’ wild label, Brainfeeder.
On the latest album, Lorings, Salami Rose Joe Louis takes a shimmering detour deeper into ambient-electronic terrain, crafting an album that feels less like a traditional narrative and more like wandering through a dream engineered by a sentient synthesizer, specifcally the Roland MV 8800. Known for her cosmic jazz-inflected compositions and surreal pop experiments, Olsen here leans fully into abstraction, delivering an instrumental landscape that’s woozy, strange, and surprisingly tender.
Gone (mostly) are the whimsical vocals and glitchy hip-hop beats that marked earlier albums like Zdenka 2080 and Chapters of Zdenka. In their place is a patiently evolving wash of textures, pulses, and tones. But while the vocal hooks are sparse, like on “Arm fell asleep,” Olsen’s signature touch remains: a sense of childlike wonder mixed with emotional complexity. Every note on Lorings seems curated not just for how it sounds, but how it feels—like sun flickering through water, or the hush before a memory surfaces.
The album opens with delicate synth blooms that echo early Boards of Canada or Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith, but there’s something more fragile and human at work as you dive in. At times the album flirts with cosmic loneliness—moments of drift and disorientation—but these are always balanced with warmth and playfulness. This isn’t a record of dramatic climaxes or overt catharsis. It demands patience. But for those willing to tune into its frequency, Lorings is a hypnotic and emotionally resonant listen. It will be interesting to see this album live during the Montreal Jazz Fest.
