At the end of Violins , “Fur Elise” closes the album by gesturing backwards toward a beautiful, simple classical piano song that Teitelbaum learned in her youth. Blondshell’s “Fur Elise” narrates the crosshairs of growing up and not knowing exactly how to, turning on a deliberately wonky central metaphor: walking down the aisle to “Fur Elise,” fully aware that no one would actually get married to it. The mismatch is the point. “You’re trying to figure out what you want your life to look like, and what you want playing at your wedding, but you don’t even know where to start,” Teitelbaum says. “You’re picking the wrong song.” Growth, self-possession, and the ongoing process of healing might seem to another person like “watching paint dry,” as she sings on Violins’ opener. But on “Fur Elise,” she puts forth a statement-of-self on her own terms: “Paint a wall with the things you want spoken out loud / And you get the choice to forget / And you render art / And the truth of it is separate” – a beguiling truth in itself, and a path forward.