If you remember being a teenager around the 2013 release of Daughter’s debut album, If You Leave, the indie folk trio might have provided the perfect soundtrack to stare into the void: “Our minds are troubled by the emptiness,” frontwoman Elena Tonra sang on their breakout single ‘Youth’, a line that seemed to transcend the toxic relationship it’s about. But the lyrics that have left the biggest imprint on me come a little later: “And if you’re still breathing, you’re the lucky ones/ ‘Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs.” Daughter’s music, with its heavy reliance on reverb and negative space, is meditative in the real sense of being locked into the fragility of breath, and all it holds: “You’re drowning in the pit of my stomach,” goes a signature line from 2017’s Not to Disappear. It’s language for the gaps our minds can’t fill up, the lapses of intimacy between people, and few bands mirror the suffocating feeling quite like Daughter.

Stereo Mind Game, their third studio album, arrives after the 2017 soundtrack to the video game Life Is Strange: Before the Storm and the self-titled first effort from Tonra’s side project Ex:Re in 2018. The time between projects adds another dimension to the theme of troubled, long-distance yearning that permeates its 12 tracks, which the band dives right into on the lead single and opener ‘Be on Your Way’. The song’s melancholy ache is washed over by a sense of serenity, and the way Tonra delivers the titular line suggests she’s not only accepted but internalized the fact that two lovers’ plans may not always merge into a single path. The estrangement is clear – if the person it addresses is on the same wavelength, the song offers virtually no indication – yet Tonra’s sincerity is wholehearted, even if her hope isn’t entirely unwavering.

It’s these internal fluctuations that the rest of the album drudges up. Despite featuring contributions from the London string group 12 Ensemble, Stereo Mind Game dials back on the expansiveness of Not to Disappear, leading to an overall less dynamic record. But its subtlety often underlines the heaving frustration that burns at the core of the songs. Tonra’s vocals against the sparse backdrop of ‘Neptune’ convey unhinged desperation: “I have never hurt so badly/ Writhing, laughing, laughing, laughing/ Dying, dying, dying, laughing/ Louder, louder, louder, louder,” she sings, as if tracing the rhythm of her body and imploring the world to echo the tension. The music stays minimal – it’s all in her mind – but before long, she’s joined by the voices of composer Josephine Stephenson and guitarist Igor Haefeli, lending support to her tender cries of passion.

In some of Tonra’s most vulnerable moments, like when an unhealthy relationship with alcohol stokes fear that “my friends are vanishing” on ‘Party’, the group’s performances are steady and robust, grounding her inner monologue. As she grapples with fractured communication, ‘Swim Back’ is propulsive and hypnotic, both driven and haunted by Haefeli’s string arrangement. Lyrically, the scale of the song is as vast as the ocean, but it’s in the domestic space that Tonra finds her most potent metaphor, observing, “The kitchen sink is in our heads.” The crushing ‘Isolation’ is most static, relying on the weight of the words rather than the music: “It will likely kill me/ That I must live without you.” Unlike ‘Be on Your Way’, which holds hope – if not for the future of the relationship, then an opportunity to one day reignite it – all ‘Isolation’ can strive for is a sense of self-composure. “I’ll get over it,” she sings, a promise just to herself.

The second half of Stereo Mind Game contains some of its most complex and intriguing songs, helping to animate what Tonra describes in ‘Junkmail’ as “the monochrome everything.” ‘Future Lover’ might be the strongest cut, retaining the band’s penchant for spacious warmth while evoking a creeping uncertainty. In it, against the odds, Tonra manages to be direct in her longing for clarity, not drown in it. It’s a newfound awareness she harnesses throughout the album. “I’d prefer us to be close,” she admits earlier on ‘Dandelion’, “I’d like to look you in the eyes.” Even with the void staring back at her, she keeps her cool. There’s good things on the horizon.