Annie Clark, who performs under the stage name St. Vincent, has just released her fourth solo album, the endlessly fascinating “St. Vincent,” her first since her triumphant collaboration with David Byrne. There are thin traces of Byrne’s influence here — the brass-band stomp of “Digital Witness,” the stuttering phrasing of “Rattlesnake,” the minimalist art-punk of “Psychopath” — but for the most part the new record grows out of Clark’s three earlier solo discs. If anything, her ongoing struggle between pretty and harsh, reverie and distortion, hopeful and bleak has only intensified.

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