Evan Lo—who makes music as Flawed Mangoes—has been slowly and quietly evolving since 2017. He started with dreamy lo-fi guitar loops, making ambient stuff that felt like it belonged to late nights and quiet bedrooms. Since then, his sound has become deeper, fuzzier, and more layered. There’s post-rock in there now. Shoegaze. Chillwave. But it still feels personal. It still feels like him.
Anomaly IV is the biggest thing he’s done. It’s four discs long, but it’s not overwhelming. It doesn’t hit you all at once. It unfolds slowly, like a memory you’re not quite ready to name. And even though some of the songs feel similar on the surface, they shift in small ways, quietly evolving as they go. This isn’t an album full of singles or big hooks. It’s more like an experience. Something you sit with and come back to, and it might take a bit before you really start to get it (like I had to), but nonetheless, it’s incredible. Let’s get into it.
Disc One
“Medulla”: A soft, short opener. It doesn’t rush to impress you—it just opens the door. Feels like a deep breath before something begins. Peaceful, but with a bit of tension underneath. It sets the mood without giving too much away.
“Stain”: It is one of the prettiest tracks on the album. It’s gentle, almost weightless. The synth floats, the guitar shimmers. You can feel the space around the music, like Lo knows when not to fill every second. You listen to this kind of track when you want the world to slow down for a minute.
“Palindrome”: A heavier moment. This is where the fuzz and distortion come in, and it works. There’s longing in the lyrics—”I think I just threw my life away”—but it’s not dramatic. It feels honest. The guitar carries most of the emotion here and speaks louder than any lyric could.
Disc Two
“Butterfly Effect”: Gorgeous. It’s all instrumental, but you barely notice there aren’t any words. The guitar changes so gradually that you only realize something’s shifted once you’re already somewhere new. This track feels like waking up early and watching the sun move. It’s patient. Emotional. One of my favorites.
“Revelation”: This one feels a little more synthetic and modern. A cool push-and-pull between the synth and the bass gives the track this alive, moving quality. It’s simple but really smart. You can tell how far Lo has come from his earlier loop-based stuff—he’s layering more, experimenting more, but never in a way that feels too flashy.
“Surreal”: A lot of fans know this one from Anomaly III. It’s raw, emotional, and fuzzy in the best way. The line “Now I’m going with the current, just like you wanted to” hits like it’s about more than one thing—resignation, acceptance, maybe even letting go. In a post promoting the music video, Lo—alongside director Justin Kaminuma—said he “wanted to create something that feels like it could’ve played on MTV in the early 2000s—a tribute to something new.”
Disc Three
“Dawn Chorus”: This track feels like the start of something softer. It’s ambient and floaty, almost like a dream. I love how unhurried it is. It reminds me of the stillness you feel when you’re up before everyone else, like the world hasn’t started yet.
“Somniferous”: No lyrics, but it still speaks. The guitar here is so full of feeling that it almost sings. If you’ve ever heard Bon Iver’s “Rosyln,” you’ll know the feeling. It’s hushed, intimate, and completely absorbing. One of the most beautiful pieces on the album.
“Circle of Death”: This track is shorter and shifts to a calmer shoegaze. The line “I don’t know how to quit when I’m losing” feels like something you think to yourself late at night. There’s vulnerability here, but also strength. It’s a quiet kind of power.
Disc Four (Finale)
“Absolution”: A soft return to the tone of Disc One. It doesn’t try to stand out—it’s more of a gentle nudge forward like closing your eyes and letting a thought pass through. It’s subtle, but it fits right where it is.
“Addicted”: This one starts familiarly, then shifts into something strange and glitchy. That surprise twist near the two-minute mark is one of my favorite moments in this section. The tension builds, but never reasonably concludes, and there is no climax. And that choice is bold. It makes the song linger and leave you wanting more.
“mk4”: I wasn’t sure what to expect from a song titled “mk4,” but it definitely surprised me in a good way. It starts twangy and mellow, then gears into this noisy, almost punk-y energy. It feels like the album ends with a question mark, not a period.
Final Thoughts: ★★★★☆
This album doesn’t try too hard. Anomaly IV feels reflective, thoughtful, and really personal. You can tell how much time and care went into every part. It’s not trying to be viral. It’s not trying to do anything else, because it doesn’t have to. Lo makes the kind of music he wants to make—not for trends, not for charts, just because it matters to him. You’ll enjoy this if you like to sit with an album and slowly get to know it. It might not blow you away on the first listen, but give it time. Let it sit with you. Put it on during a long walk, or late at night when overthinking. I like to think that Lo originally intended Anomaly IV to do this: be there in those moments of uncertainty and searching. And I’m looking forward to seeing where he’ll go next following this exploration of an album.
