Fortune Cookie, the food-court project of the electrifying Jasmine Sankaran, delivers a slice of garage-surf gold that is deliciously jagged and wrapped in wit, grit and emotional precision. This is not a record, it is a statement; crude, brash, trampline-crazed and desperately creative.
Since the first songs, Sankaran exposes her poetic delicacy and self-depreciating charisma and switches between antihero and idol in a second. Her lyrics are brutally intimate, but universally identifiable, ponder The Clash’s strength with the soul-searching of Courtney Barnett, all sprinkled with the Californian sadness of indie. Fortune Cookie was recorded at Moosecat Recording, and it alternates between lo-fi intimacy and ambitious sonic overlay. Every one of the eight songs seems to be a hand-made work, the country-spiced sadness of ‘You Only Love Me When’ or the desert stomp of a song called Janakita. The emotional range of Sankaran is balanced by the band Steph Anderson (keys), Antonio White (guitar), Dan Perdomo (drums) and Ryan Kellis (bass) with textured and punchy dynamics.
Coherence to the chaos is offered by producer Mike Post who sets Sankaran cryptic and vulnerable lyrics in arrangements which shimmer and bite. The kaleidoscopic kaleidoscopic Goldilocks and the strutting High Rise are only highlights of a band that had no fear of mixing genres and bending expectations. It is not only the musicianship that makes Fortune Cookie stick, it is the soul. The literal and lyrical voice of Sankaran is authoritative. There’s heartbreak here, sure. But also defiance. Humor. Power. It is a debut that is underground and at the same time universal and is an indicator of Jangus Kangus who is ready to rewrite the rules of indie rock one bold chorus at a time.
