Burn Out – the latest release from Mini Trees – is a defiantly euphoric EP with the sonic and emotional bandwidth of a full-length record packed neatly into five new songs from Los Angeles-based songwriter Lexi Vega. Inspired by a relentless touring schedule that followed the release of her 2021 debut album Always In Motion, the songs of Burn Out confront questions of identity, exhaustion, and how to navigate creating art in an industry fixated on commodifying it.

A month away from music sparked Vega’s creativity and inspired her to return with long-time friend and producer Jon Joseph. Together they determined to push the limits of Mini Trees’ “bedroom pop” description, opening the door to a number of new

collaborators – keys from Zac Rae (Death Cab for Cutie, Lana Del Rey), arrangements from James McAllister (Sufjan Stevens, Taylor Swift), and even bass from longtime family friend Jimmy Johnson (James Taylor, Phil Collins). These songs shimmer in production, even as they’re saturated with the pervasive sense of fractured identity, disillusionment, and otherness that has shaped much of Vega’s sense of self. The overwhelming weight of these disparate identities is reflected in the EP’s cover art – a bed cluttered with clothes she’s chosen not to wear, familial heirlooms and mementos strewn at her feet.

Songs like opener “Shapeshifter” exemplify the new, determinatively pop sound Lexi & her team pushed for in these sessions. On the song, Vega contends with her tendency to change herself to blend with her surroundings, ultimately leaving her feeling like an empty shell over pulsating synths and buoyant drums. “Cave” is another album highlight, featuring Medium Build’s Nick Carpenter and little more than an acoustic guitar and some keys. “You’re never going back there” the two singers belt throughout the song’s build, a lament for life’s unlived trajectories despite satisfaction with the one she chose.

The irony of Burn Out is that as vulnerably as Vega grapples with her insecurities, this is Mini Trees’ most assertive and intrepid work yet. Gritty guitars rip through polyrhythmic backbeats, Vega’s voice pressed tight to the listener’s ear, dripping often with the gleam of autotune as it flips into breathy falsetto. These are hooks meant to be belted in loud rooms, and arrangements that sparkle as if they were crafted in million-dollar studios. But these songs came mostly out of the same rooms in which Vega made Always in Motion — a testament to the profound artistry and talent that keeps developing despite her fear that at any moment it could all go away. And a sign that perhaps she has a firmer grasp of herself than even she knows.