There’s something strangely perplexing about Brooklyn-based Marykate O’Neil’s new EP, mkULTRA. It all starts on the cover and then works its way inside. Named after the covert CIA program that experimented with secretly administering chemicals and controlling the minds of unsuspecting test subjects, it’s impossible not to be suspicious of whatever the sweet-looking artist might be dosing me with from the bottle she holds in her hand.

Marykate O’Neil is a fascinating contradiction. Never have I come across an artist whose voice and lyrics elicit such opposite reactions. Her appearance and voice both suggest the mannerisms of a sweet, timid kitten with all the fluffy softness to boot. However, the darker layers of her compositions and her bitingly cynical lyrics convey a vastly different feeling. With her dark hair, glasses, subtle attitude, and cutesy demeanor, she could almost be Lisa Loeb’s indie and introspective younger sister.

The soft guitar finger-picking and delicate vocals create the sounds of gentle lullabies, but the content of the songs seem to demand a little bit more passion, leaving me with the unsettling feeling of being oppressed. The extreme vocal vibrato used in songs like “Nothing I Say or Do” and “Without You” would typically be suggestive of more powerful emotions but remain too consistent throughout the songs to properly accent any given segments of the pieces. Lyrics like “Nothing’s gonna happen, nothing’s gonna change. It’s so hard living without you,” are embedded into “Without You,” which is completely offset by an oddly cheery melody.

Listening to Marykate’s compositions requires a bit of recalibration, like becoming adjusted to a slightly different gravitational pull on another planet, but once the ear gets used to the sound and pressure change, a lot can be said for the dimension she creates. “Green Street” whisked me up with an irresistibly fun chorus that seems to encapsulate the best of her quirky style. “Map” incorporates some funky rhythms and strange instruments (including what sounded like a harmonium with a reverb pedal), fueling a feeling of being irrevocably lost yet pulling the song together in an unexpectedly graceful way.

This album won’t allow you anywhere near the catharsis of soaring emotional highs or the satisfaction of diving down into the depths of despair. It does, however, provide a unique approach to songwriting, an interesting style, and a one-of-a-kind sound.