ink razor in hand, a stern mother at the bathroom door, The Chaos in Order is an adolescent Shana Levy caught shaving her legs. An album where adulthood coaxes this indie pop-obsessed schoolgirl with a curling finger, taunts her with playful tugs on gift-ribboned pigtails.

Let’s Go Sailing is the songwriting vehicle of the Los Angeles-based Levy, once a member of Irving and a part-time contributor with Rilo Kiley. And while this full-length debut exhibits a certain level of professional maturation (she handles vocals, guitars, and keyboards, as well as production duties), there’s no doubt that beneath the ruby radiance lipstick and snug, indigo jeans—beyond the romantic precepts and the “All I want from you is love” poesy—beats the red Crayola-drawn heart of a child.

It’s evident on the album’s opener, “Sideways,” a poignant piano-and-strings driven number that gorgeously displays Levy’s classical training. Lyrics like “I’ve been moving / I’ve been dreaming / I’ve been looking at you sideways” have Levy as a mooning, No. 2 pencil-biting schoolgirl, eyeing the boy at the desk next to her—and having thoughts of playing house, when playing with dolls should feel more acquainting. “Too Many Stars” advances this theme: Heartbroken, sounding like she’s purring while hiding underneath her canopied bed, a callow Levy struggles to conjure up the proper words to describe these new feelings, ultimately settling for imagery that’s fanciful and childlike: “My heart is the only black pea / The broken rubberband in the bag of good ones.” And on the playful “Icicles,” Levy lifts a curious eye to these winter creations, taking puerile pleasure in their fatal descents to earth, before quickly becoming aware of her own mortality should one fall upon her: “I better run for cover or they’ll soon be / Sticking in the softest spots / Inside of me.”

But Levy meanders, a common sin of any artist recording that rookie full-length. The girl tantalized by the perfume and pearls of maturity sheepishly retreats, replaced by a disenchanted adult fresh from scrubbing the hopscotch chalk off her front sidewalk. And her unlocked-with-a-tiny-key entries are cloying and curdled: “Heart Condition” sounds promising, with rollicking guitar licks not featured elsewhere on the album, but lyrically it’s a roll in a muddy pit of self-loathing. “Air is trapped with words I never,” Levy sings, “had the chance to say in elementary school.” On the Paper Moon soundalike “We Get Along,” Levy affirms the compatibility of her and her beau, but says it was such little conviction you wonder if even she believes it. Not even a pert piano solo can rescue “All I Want From You” from slavering, doe-eyed doom.

There’s no doubt Levy has polished her role as sonic architect, creating multi-layered tracks with the same fastidious care she put into the LP’s construction-paper-assembled art (done by her and designer Tanya Haden). Levy’s piano and string arrangements give the music a companionable hush (like “Come Home Safely,” evoking the bare sadness of a Chris Garneau), but she adds enough rhythm-driven sections and circular guitar lines to deliver it from any plastic doldrums.

However, when putting words to the wattage, Levy forgot one important lesson: The journey to adulthood—complete with all its enchantments and errs—is typically far more interesting than the destination itself. And that’s what prohibits this debut from reaching any sort of pop empyrean.