Striking the territory somewhere amid Lucy Dacus, Charlotte Day Wilson, and Marine Girls, Marika Hackman is sleekly dry without reducing every experience to simple humor, or going so far to the end of the poetry line that you lose the authentic emotion in her work. Each of her tracks plays more like “a day in the life” rather than a diary entry, with the observer being picked up and carried along for the essential moments within each relationship vignette. Hackman’s 2015 album, We Slept at Last, comes off as much spacier, more ethereally unsure of the realities unfolding before her. In I’m Not Your Man, released via Sub Pop, Hackman comes into her own, with fewer doubts and a couple more battle scars to prove her worth. by Kim Selling