Music runs in Marcella Simien’s blood, but her heart pumps to a rhythm different from her father Terrance’s zydeco. Now a resident of Memphis—where she attended and graduated college—she’s added her own style to the family’s musical legacy.

Although her father makes an appearance on “Ethel,” and Creole music is populated with tales of woe, this is nowhere near a zydeco track. As all her music possesses a decidedly non-Louisiana feel, it features him playing the slowest accordion licks he’s likely ever squeezed while Marcella’s piano paints the background strokes as she sadly waxes poetically.

She delivers lines like “Those fangs turned to sugar cane at the mere mention of her name” in an almost spoken-word style.

The rest of the album is relatively free of any south Louisiana semblance—other than a cover of Lil’ Bob & the Lollipop’s “My Heart’s on Fire,” which has a scaled-down Supremes sound. Her other cuts display a soul-meets-reggae and post-punk vibe with an occasional indie-rock feel (Simien was a fan of local indie rock before heading upriver).

The album’s starter, “Put that Bronze,” establishes a low-key reggae or even mellowed rock-steady feel. “Branch Strewn Sky” adds post-punk punch and irreverence as she barks at herself “Don’t be stupid.” “We Rewind” incorporates her more modern indie-rock influences but still with a lounging quality.

Overall, this is a warm album that feels like hanging out on a weeknight—relaxed, subdued, but still a good time. The pace works well with her voice—a multi-dimensional instrument that comes off as smoky, a touch sweet but not pretty, and strong yet possessing a much older than her age quality that conveys instant intimacy.

As it bends and blends genres and feels like it’s never been to Louisiana, The Bronze Age is not a great pick for Terrance’s fans, but an ideal one for their kids.