Imagine a world where all music was honest, with no filtering or editing from producers, record labels or the artists themselves. Then imagine if Kate Bush, Tori Amos and Imogen Heap adopted a baby who was blessed with their beautiful, ethereal voices, but also cursed with a darker side that created happy music for sad people, or vice versa, with her inner demons singing background vocals.

This is My Velcroe, born Emily Blong, and she wears her imagination along with her battered heart on her sleeve for the listener to hear. Her introspective, dark humor with playful sounds from her vintage Japanese keyboard places you in the privacy of your own haunted Barbie doll house on Christmas morning surrounded by gifts already used and broken, yet still eerily boasting a shine.

“This album is a reflection of my journey through compulsive self-destruction and is meant to tie into my logo-based Prophets of the Broken Velcroe art project about recognizing one’s own tools of perpetual self-infliction,” she says.

“This was a channel I used for a time to successfully cure the dehabilitating depression that was in turn inspiring me to write music. It started as a street art project when I would go posting these logo toys I made all over L.A. and give them out to strangers and people I loved. It has now bled into a sigil of my art and music, a sigil, which allows everything to fall into place. That and a colorful cult of suicidal kaiju necklace packaging that bears my eyes [see CD art].”

The CD bears her soul as well, tortured and beautiful all at once.

“I don’t want to be your fucking angel,” Blong sings on track seven, yet by the time you’ve listened this far into the album, you’ll already be wishing she were your angel, broken and all.

Prophets of the Broken Velcroe is currently available. For more information, visit myvelcroe.com.