Miss Grit’s Under My Umbrella finds Margaret Dewey Sohn stepping out from behind the circuitry and into something far more exposed. It is the second full-length from the New York–based artist, and it shifts the focus from concept to confession without losing the sonic control that defined their debut.

Sohn first drew attention with a run of EPs before breaking through with Follow The Cyborg, an album that framed identity through a sci-fi lens. It was precise, layered, and deliberately constructed. Under My Umbrella keeps that attention to detail intact, but the perspective has changed. This time, the internal world isn’t filtered through a character. It’s right there on the surface.

The album leans into a darker, more textured palette, pulling from trip-hop’s shadowy atmosphere while pushing toward something fuller and more immediate. There’s a dream-pop haze running through it, but it’s balanced by a sense of weight and density that keeps the songs grounded. Sohn still builds these tracks piece by piece, drawing on their background in music technology, but the end result feels less sealed off and more open to impact.

That shift lines up with how the record came together. After a stretch of solo touring across North America, driving themselves from city to city, Sohn came home carrying the kind of unfiltered energy that doesn’t translate easily into controlled studio environments. Instead of smoothing that out, Under My Umbrella leans into it. The performances feel closer to the edge, with less distance between the impulse and the finished track.

The title nods to Rihanna, but it also signals the record’s core idea. Sohn has described it as letting people in, not holding back, and leaving the “cyborg” framing behind. That decision reshapes the entire album. The themes are still rooted in identity, anxiety, and self-doubt, but they land more directly, without the conceptual buffer.

What stands out is how those ideas are carried by the production rather than buried under it. Sohn’s instincts as a producer are still front and center, but the complexity never overwhelms the emotional core. The songs move with purpose, balancing tension and release in a way that mirrors the push and pull of the subject matter.

Under My Umbrella doesn’t abandon what made Miss Grit compelling in the first place. It refines it. The precision is still there, the sound still unmistakably theirs, but the distance is gone. It’s a record that trades protection for clarity, and in doing so, lands with more weight.