Nina Grollman’s moniker, Softee, isn’t just a sardonic nod to the thrifty, soft-serve giant, it’s an earnest, sometimes painfully so, descriptor of the Brooklyn-based artist’s approach to love and music. Her work is a kaleidoscopic exploration of wrought emotion, tinged with influences as sundry as Robyn, Janet Jackson, and the pure, unfettered melodrama of 80s pop. But whether she’s wrestling through a heartbreak, or making sense of her sexuality, Softee weaves her anxiety and unrest into urgently joyful, angsty queer pop.