Next Thing, the newest album from Frankie Cosmos (aka Greta Kline), traces small but powerful currents in the post-adolescent whirlpool of ennui, discontent, and fear of the unknown. Resting her well-established sound on firm, clear vocals and lyrics, Greta Kline expands on her previous works to prove that her distinct brand of witty, self-aware brooding has only improved with age.

Kline’s longest album yet, Next Thing retains the sweet, short clarity of her earlier works while fending off the labels of saccharine frivolity common in the cutesy-twee-rock genre. Sharp humor undercuts her youthful sincerity, as in the intriguing “If I Had A Dog.” With a smirk, Kline sings, “If I had a dog, I’d take a picture every day / Am I still so sad? Is that pretty lame?” but she pushes through the light self-mockery into complex themes about navigating heartbreak and the well-intentioned but often toxic social expectations that emerge in its aftermath. The subtly infectious chorus of “Fool” and hazy melodies of “Too Dark” could at first be mistaken for the enjoyable but lyrically shallow music often credited to bands like Best Coast. However, a more careful inspection reveals Kline’s lyrical prowess in her masterful crooning: “How easily I become not real, like a bug you brush off your ear / You’re just dust, I’m just dust / If your love was as strong as my shame, I’d marry you and take your name.”

Although the longest song stands at just under two minutes and 45 seconds, Next Thing packs wondrously intense imagery into short snapshots. Despite her knack for lush imagery, Kline steers clear of nestling into the cataclysm of post-adolescence; themes of heartbreak and young love are addressed through  meditative, detached lyrics that diverge from typical brooding angst. Kline declines to focus on the actual fallout or blossoming of young love, instead dwelling on the in-between moments that comprise so much of the late teenage years. Singing of the constant pondering and surprising stasis of aging youth in songs like “Tour Good” and “What If,” Kline’s line, “When you’re young, you’re too young / When you’re old, you’re too old,” in the latter laments the paralysis that accompanies the perpetual transformations of the early twenties.

The prolific Kline has, at the age of 22, already established an impressive discography. Coming two years after her last full-length album, Next Thing sees the artist switching between pensive meditations on the past and exasperatedly unanswerable queries about the future. “Outside With the Cuties” asks listeners the question that is on Kline’s mind throughout the album: “I haven’t written this part yet / Will you help me write it?” On an impressively mature artistic and emotional journey, Kline successfully acknowledges how much she has left to write—and how much she hopes not to do it alone.