As long as she can remember, Jane Remover has practiced her own autonomy as much as possible. The nineteen year old songwriter is an omnivorous listener that produces everything herself. She has been lauded by fans and writers alike, for accidentally creating entire genres in the wake of her prolific two-year run. The new album is more conceptually abstract than its predecessor as Jane sheds linear narrative writing. However, it takes place beginning at sundown and through the night, up until the next morningʼs earliest crack of dawn. Its winding songs are obtuse but carefully composed, and intimately follow Jane's train of thought. Dynamic production is at the forefront. Noisy highs gleam, and are juxtaposed by dusky Post-Rock lullabies within the same songʼs runtime. Census Designated is a staggering display of maturation in every aspect when compared to her previous presentation, to a degree that makes it few and far between in the world of albums. Despite the darker palette, Jane steps into a technicolor clarity for the first time. The album was made in both studios and at home—with recordings from Studio North (Kensington in Philadelphia), mixes from Kayla Reagan and mastered by Hector Vega. A photo of her standing bareback while facing away towards the high plains, serves as the cover art for an album where she manages to simultaneously divulge her most confessional moments yet, and captivate the listener with unanswerable questions.