Elizabeth & the Catapult’s Sophisticated, Visceral Pop

Membership ticker

Right now is no time to come up short.

It's time to fight like hell for a democracy where minority rule cannot impose an extreme and cruel agenda, where the Big Lie is called a Big Lie, where facts matter, and where accountability at the polls and in the press has a fighting chance. We have our work cut out for us, and we urgently need to raise about 400,000 by Thursday, June 30, to finish our fiscal year on track and give it everything we possibly can. Please help us get there with a donation if you can right now.

$1,150,000

$1,350,000

Right now is no time to come up short. It's time to fight like hell for a democracy where minority rule cannot impose an extreme and cruel agenda, where facts matter, and where accountability at the polls and in the press has a fighting chance. We have our work cut out for us, and we still need to raise upwards of 400,000 by June 30 to give it everything we can. Please help:

Courtesy of Sacks & Co.

Facts matter: Sign up for the free Mother Jones Daily newsletter. Support our nonprofit reporting. Subscribe to our print magazine.

Elizabeth & the Catapult
Like It Never Happened
Scratchback

The classically trained pianist Elizabeth Ziman, a.k.a. Elizabeth & the Catapult, crafts luscious, literate pop that’s at once sophisticated and visceral. Located midpoint between Sara Bareilles (rational) and Fiona Apple (tightly wound) on the crazy scale, Ziman is a deceptively subtle singer who sounds world-weary but never bitter or cynical, deploying arresting lyrical twists and avoiding histrionics to create the feeling of eavesdropping on a frank private conversation. “If you have some common sense you will leave me right this moment/I am not your girlfriend/I’m just a lonely letter you know better than to ever open,” she chirps ominously on “Sugared Poison.” Catchy and tantalizing, Like It Never Happened changes shape with each hearing.