Not so long ago, in the long winter of 2016-2017, was the debut of Jackie Lynn. It was a year of bright lights and alien love and an undercurrent of undisguised tension too. It fed the music. Now it’s a new year beginning and ‘Jacqueline’ is the album of that year, bringing Jackie fully back in front of us, larger than life, her arms reaching out farther into the glittering darkness than before. ‘Jacqueline’ finds Jackie Lynn down the road apiece, having broken in and out of the glare of American days and nights. A casino queen in Missouri now, a stranger in a short black dress in Odessa tomorrow – another track, another rich slice of the life for our femme long-haul truck driver. Each one flowing with the white-hot bursts of new as it unfurls itself around her. The process of realizing is palpable, as we watch Jackie roll her wheels across the wrecked frontier. Removed from the urban play that made her first songs hum with onyx-black edges, Jackie is an agent of her own agency this time around, alone and together with herself, as big-sky perspective flashes through the windshield over and over: dreamlike passing flares, white-line beats, twilight falling silk on the horizon. ‘Jacqueline’ blooms expansively from the synthetic rhythms of her debut, blowing up their bone structure with bigger stakes in sight. Jackie Lynn – comprised of Cooper Crain, Rob Frye and Dan Quinlivan of Bitchin Bajas and Haley Fohr of Circuit des Yeux – approached the material as a group, drawing together the journey over time, inspired collectively to find the right notes, sounds and settings to open the landscape for Jackie – and alter it inexorably. ‘Jacqueline’ was recorded at home and mixed at Electrical Audio by Cooper Crain.