If music could sneer, the music from 24-year-old Åsa Söderqvist most surely would. A jutted-out jaw and a cackling smile is exactly how I imagine the personification of Shitkid’s Fish. It’s an album that snarls and jabs with sonic stipulations while flowering and pampering with a hearty pop flesh. It seems to give body to the labels of “alternative pop” or “noise pop” all on its own, demanding precise attention to its stubborn melodies and its unwavering attitude. Like a frustrated and fed-up Kevin Barnes, Söderqvist doesn’t shy away from using playful, simple pop songs to contrast her discomforting tunes.