For the past 15 years, Cate Le Bon has been constructing her own warped world of sound. In Le Bon Land, guitars bend and liquify like Dali clocks, synthesizers echo into an infinite horizon, and familiar words stretch and contract within her steely register. But on her seventh album, Michelangelo Dying, Le Bon plunges headfirst into craggier depths: pervasive heartache. That circular pattern, never breaking, seems to be the point: “Stay forever/But you are so cruel/I get swept away/In your love,” Le Bon murmurs. Le Bon seems to extract power from repetition, as if she’s reciting a mantra—or conducting an exorcism.