Much in the way Dr. Martens and flannel shirts have slowly come back into vogue, the guitar-driven sonics of the ‘90s have been on a similar return path. And it’s not just result of the reuniting Gen X bands; younger musicians are manifesting the ‘90s like a musical sleeper cell. One such artist is Mackenzie Scott, better known as Torres. The Brooklyn-based singer has tapped into some of the best parts of the ‘90s alt-rock sound on her sophomore record Sprinter (Partisan Records).

Rather than just making a nod to the past, Torres went all in, tapping PJ Harvey’s Rob Ellis as a co-producer and percussionist. Ellis in turn drafted Ian Olliver, who played with him on PJ Harvey’s Dry. Torres didn’t stop there, though, as she also collaborated with Portishead’s Adrian Utley. Nevertheless, Sprinter isn’t so much an attempt at mining the past, but rather just Torres aligning herself with the people who make sense. Big swathes of Sprinter sound like early PJ Harvey; while not quite as violently explosive, Sprinter’s “Strange Hellos” could sit comfortably along side many of the tracks on Rid of Me. There’s a similarity in both vocal and guitar phrasing as well as the interplay between the two elements. And while Torres doesn’t have Harvey’s blues snarl in her arsenal, there are times when she comes of like a distant cousin, especially when she invokes a similar type of Gothic storytelling.

While Torres does unquestionably wear her influences on her sleeve, Sprinter isn’t simply a mimeographed copy of them. The songs are fairly tightly drawn narratives that lead to the chorus instead of killing time until then. The guitar parts aren’t superfluous; they’re atmospheric when they need to be and full of attack when it’s time to accentuate a point. Torres is a fluid guitar player who shies away from guitar hero heroics, while Ellis and the rest provide parts that are interesting but don’t draw attention away. The songs and the vocals are the focus and even the little fiddly production touches accentuate them. It’s a fairly consistent record where even the stylistic diversions—like the relatively poppy, drum machine–driven “Cowboy Guilt”—seem to make sense. While Torres might have the chops and ability to grab the listener by the throat, instead she’s confident enough to slowly draw him in. On Sprinter, she takes all the lessons from the past for a record smartly put together in the now.