Wriggling, the debut full-length from Philadelphia musician Abi Reimold, is an uncomfortable listen, its dozen tracks knotting, twisting and squirming together not unlike the mass of earthworms depicted on the album's cover.

Wriggling, the debut full-length from Philadelphia musician Abi Reimold, is an uncomfortable listen, its dozen tracks knotting, twisting and squirming together not unlike the mass of earthworms depicted on the album's cover.

"When I wrote Wriggling, I was really scared to release it," said Reimold, who opens for Slaughter Beach, Dog at Double Happiness on Sunday, Nov. 27. "It's just so personal. It's a mess. There are so many things going on and it's very candid."

Though personal in nature and awash in awkwardness, depression and self-loathing, Reimold's songs aren't wholly insular, stretching outward to explore big-picture concepts like death ("Dust") and religion. "Grant me my mortality, make me blind so I won't see / That there's no scheme, there is no plan, we grow where our seeds happen to land," she sings in a comforting, lullaby-like tone on "Machine."

"A lot of my songs and my thinking about life come from being really religious as a kid," said Reimold, 24, who was raised Presbyterian. "As I moved away from that thinking, I struggled with trying to figure out which parts of that [upbringing] I want to take with me and which parts I want to question and reevaluate. A lot of people around me take a more atheist perspective, and on that song it's me trying to balance all these thoughts to figure out what I think."

At times, words arrive casually. On "Vessel," Reimold is deliberate, lingering on every syllable like each morsel of a fine meal. Other times, they arrive in a rush. Such is the case on the dizzying "Clouded," which was partially inspired by Detroit rapper Danny Brown and recreates the feel of living inside a sustained panic attack.

Reimold penned most of Wriggling in 2014, and struggles with revisiting the material even just two years later. "It's this version of me I've moved on from," she said.

"When I wrote [these songs], it came from a place of self-hate, but ultimately it's a selfish thing … to bring that self-loathing energy into other people's lives," Reimold said. "It's really overwhelming how many wild things are going on in the world, and a lot of them are very hurtful and can make me really angry. But it's like that airplane thing: You have to put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others. Your personal stability will ultimately make the world a little more stable for everyone."