The enigmatic musician has released one of the most raved-about LPs of recent times. But they've done it without marketing or interviews – and you certainly won't find it on Spotify.

Of all the musical acts that emerged last year, none was more fascinating – or more mysterious – than Cindy Lee. Last March, their album Diamond Jubilee – an astonishing two-hour, 32-track, lo-fi heliograph of rock and pop's formative sounds – appeared as if by magic: a sprawling, sumptuous, dream-like immersion of melodiously beautiful, often haunting songs of loss and longing. But this self-released album wasn't easily accessible, exactly, being unavailable on streaming services, or in any physical format.

Warning: This article contains language that some may find offensive

The music was beguilingly kaleidoscopic, moving from its aesthetic core of girl groups like The Supremes through folk, psych, glam, rockabilly, doo-wop, Velvet Underground-esque rock and Righteous Brothers-like balladry. But to hear it, you had to go to an antiquated 1990s-modelled GeoCities-style website and download the files from a service called Mega, with a suggested donation of $30; it was uploaded to YouTube shortly after.

People were also eagerly scrambling to find out: who exactly is Cindy Lee anyway? There was no PR campaign, no interviews, and no social media presence. In fact, as it transpired, it was the enigmatic drag alter ego of alternative Canadian singer-songwriter Patrick Flegel, whose band Women had been a combustible but admired act in the 00s indie rock scene, releasing two acclaimed albums before splitting after an onstage fistfight.

Flegel began their Cindy Lee project in 2012. It was shortly after their first live performance, playing bass in a friend's band, in their now trademark drag look: beehive wig, gold or silver sequined dresses, knee-high boots and fur coat. "In the context of modern drag, the way I do drag is so tame, conventional, basic, and traditional," they said in a rare 2020 interview. "I'm like, 60s closet queen drag... [in] a tradition of diva archetypes like Patsy Cline, Tammy Wynette, Diana Ross." The music and the look weren't matched in any particularly deliberate way, Flegel also explained in another 2022 interview. "They didn't really have anything to do with each other initially," he said, "they just kind of blended together. But that's kind of a long game thing, where it's not just some idea that I wrote down on paper – it's just my life."

Flegel's previous six albums as Cindy Lee had made little imprint: Diamond Jubilee's grand unorthodoxy could have been another hard sell. But switched-on music fans discovering the album couldn't get enough. As old-school word-of-mouth hype built, internet forums such as Reddit were awash with praise; the YouTube comment section was unanimously effusive ("This is one of the best albums I've heard in a decade. Wow" read a typical post). "There was a certain air of mystery to it that made it feel unique," says Steven Hyden, an author and music critic who co-hosts Uproxx's indie rock podcast Indiecast. "That added to the allure. It really feels like a mixtape of songs that might have been hits 40 or 50 years ago, but no one has heard yet. That was the quality that a lot of people responded to. And even though Patrick did have this history in indie rock, there was a feeling like it came out of nowhere."

When, last October, a more conventional download was made available to buy on Bandcamp, an online record store and music community that connects independent artists with loyal, paying fans, it proved incredibly popular; then a couple of weeks ago, it was finally given a physical release on vinyl and CD. "Pretty instantly it was one of the biggest selling items on the site," says Aly Gillani,​​​​ Bandcamp's European Artist and Label Representative and founder of independent label First Word Records. "It's sold very well, and continues to."

It has been helped along by vociferous praise from the online US music press; one site, Aquarium Drunkard,

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