Stream Kindora's new record, "Dark Continent"By JOSHUA PICKARD - Chattanooga musician Kindora has been described as making "rogue R&B" music. While any label is somewhat limiting, that's actually not a bad place to start. Her music is indebted to early '90s R&B, but there's also a modern pop production coursing through its veins. So in that aspect, it doesn't conform to traditional expectations of what people consider when they think of that particular genre. Her music is far more aligned with the skewed pop rhythms of bands such as CHVRCHES or Purity Ring than it is with any contemporary R&B artist. On her new record, "Dark Continent," she enlists the help of producer Rock Floyd and a handful of guests to realize the sounds that were floating around in her head. And across these 12 tracks, she wraps her gossamer vocals around some ecstatic synths and warbling beats in a surging mass of growing tension and the inevitable emotional release that comes from our consent—not to mention Kindora's knack for subtly but irrevocably involving us in these songs in ways that we don't see coming. The entire record is awash in bright synths, skittering beats and a love of all things R&B—but "Dark Continent" isn't merely the sum of these sections and influences. There is a weight that grounds these pulsating melodies within her own vivid headspace. Songs such as "Safe" and "When I Wake Up" feel like the work of an artist whose prolonged rhythmic experiences have lent their work a maturity beyond its years, and that's certainly the case with these tracks. Kindora is confident and self-assured in a way that few other artists could hope to match. Other tracks like "I Gotchu" and "Focus" shy away from even the most traditional production aesthetics and instead create something new and distinct from the sounds that have obviously played a large role in Kindora's formative musical development. Through a series of grooves spiked with languid melodies and iridescent vocal streaks, she fashions a collective of noise that'll leave your head spinning and your body moving toward the dance floor. These songs aren't shy about their intentions; they step up and pull you quickly through a succession of neon light-filled rooms where every perspective is distorted and the exit isn't always apparent—but then again, you won't really be looking for it, anyway.