It’s not hard to imagine Zola Jesus wanting to have some fun after four LPs and a handful of EPs filled with strange, often haunting music. That intended fun comes through on Taiga (Mute Records) on tracks like “Dangerous Days” and “Hunger,” both of which try to set the mood for some Saturday night mischief, but she’s trying soooooo hard. “Dangerous Days” starts with four on the floor and builds quickly to a big chorus worthy of any post-Disney pop princess. “It’s a dark, dark place,” she bellows, in full on belting range. Right before the first chorus, though, there are eight bars of a primal beat with Zola incanting “on the floor, on the ground, on the stairs, on the way” in one of her huskier voices. On any other Zola Jesus album, this would be the part that gets the most time and attention. Here, she pushes it aside to get to the soaring center more quickly.

She called “Hunger,” in an interview, “the theme of the record.” It certainly aims higher in terms of pop bombast. This time she goes straight for the sugar, jumping to the chorus without even a verse to support it first. The production here is, frankly, frustrating to listen to. A thin “horn” lead paired with a huge, heavy-handed bass drum. Like the lyric, it provides nothing of substance to hold onto. Similarly empty experiences are available from “It’s Not Over” and “Lawless.”

Luckily, these ill-conceived tracks are a little less than half the running time. The title track, for example, would fit in pretty well on Conatus, with the exception of the breakbeat that fills up the track about two-thirds of the way through. “Go (Blank Sea)” is like a pop anthem gone rotten. It features a sliding vocal gesture that’s either terribly grating or strangely uplifting (you’ll have to decide for yourself). “Nail” doesn’t feel quite as organic as her best work, but it’s as creepy (key lyric: “pull the nail out with your teeth”) as the Zola Jesus I’ve come to know and love. All of which is a powerful demonstration of what a thin line she has been walking all this time. A single misstep in any direction and one of her brooding anthems ends up ponderous instead of wondrous, posturing instead of imposing.