Don't Stop

With the recent crop of female indie and electronic pop artists, there seems to be a longing to embrace a multimedia music experience. Many of these artists, such as Róisín Murphy, Ladyhawke, Yelle, Elly Johnson (of La Roux), the well established Kylie Minogue, and especially the inimitable chanteuse Annie Lennox (despite her veteran status and not being a 'recent' arrival on the scene), exult in the harmonious melding of music, fashion, videography, and publishing. The surprising miracle in this trend is that the quality of songwriting not only thrives, but excels. So it is with Norwegian singer-songwriter Annie in her second album, Don't Stop, which was released 19 October in the UK, 26 October in Norway, and 16 November in the U.S.

The album consists of an assortment of shoegaze and new wave-tinged pop tunes featuring jangling guitars, sweeping synthesisers, whispering vocals, eerie melodies, and poignant lyrics about love and loss. All throughout, the listener becomes aware of the intelligent combination of instrumentation, lyrics, song structure, and stylistic trends. However, each song stands out as an individual, memorable tune which can be listened to as easily in the living room as in a really cool dance club in Berlin or San Francisco--one is almost glad that the album's release was delayed a year due to record label issues. The chief commercial single seems to be I Know UR Girlfriend Hates Me, which recalls Top 40 artists such as Lady GaGa, but the rest of the album--such as I Can't Let Go--smacks uncannily of edgier material by the Ting Tings or Magic Wands. Perhaps the most standout track is the ethereal Songs Remind Me Of You, which shows not only raw demo video footage, funky fashion, and trance-inspired hi-nrg synthpop, but also a similar theme to that of Erasure's Phantom Bride:

Once upon a time there was a girl
Met a boy that said he'd change the world.
Promises he only made for me
Vanished into what he could not be.

Annie leaves the listener gasping, panting for fresh air after a frenetic display on the dance-floor, all the while sending the simple, cynical message of hope and betrayal. Don't Stop shows a smart combination of lyrical wit, orchestral elegance, and sweet, soft vocal techniques; it is a refreshing reprieve from the whiny, banal conventions of Top 40 R&B and a markedly androgynous retreat away from the hypersexual, hyperfeminine stars which dominate the U.S. pop charts.

Review of 'My Guilty Pleasure'

Well, what can I say? The title says it all. Sally Shapiro are exactly that. Yet, why should I feel guilty? They (for Sally Shapiro are actually a duo consisting of Swedish producer Johan Agebjörn and a mysterious, unidentified female vocalist) make me feel exquisite. Sally Shapiro are doing with their second full-length studio album, My Guilty Pleasure, exactly what Sandra should have done with her most recent album, Back To Life. And these albums were both released the same year. It seems as though those who emulate early Italo-disco artists sometimes outdo them. Recall my previous post on Faith, Power and Glory, and how VNV Nation have managed to evolve without sounding poncey or lacklustre. In the present case, I find, the featured artist has reversed the trend toward boring adult contemporary music among older artists.

Because I adore Sally Shapiro, let me save the best for last and begin with the weakest point of their new album. The second single from the album, Love in July, is an insipid mistake with lyrics such as, "give me your love in July . . . you make the sun shine" and "dry off the tears in my eyes. Don't let me down. I'll be around". Now, normally such lyrics actually have a perennial appeal--they reflect that strange heartache one feels when one has lost a true love and feels actual physiological effects. One can only relate to such a simple message if one has felt truly excruciating loss. These messages, however, could have been communicated other than through an irregular dubstep bass drum, which, hideous to begin with, suggests an escape into some aggressive, epileptic, drug-fuelled ecstasy. Conveyed with the right melody, chords, notes, etc., they can move one. It's a dicey and difficult balance to achieve. The essential qualities of the composition have potential--they were simply perverted by the style of the bass drum.

Seemingly conventional lyrics are actually what is most appealing about Sally Shapiro. A work can sound burdensome, pretentious, ineffective with cryptic or pretentious lyrical content, which is why simple and straightforward messages work well with the right melody and orchestration. And Sally Shapiro basically achieve this effect throughout the rest of My Guilty Pleasure. Listening to Dying in Africa, I initially scorned the writer as provincial for fixating on a lover "even if they're dying in Africa", but I came to think how profound a singular love must be to distract one from issues of global importance. This particular song reminds the listener how magnetic, how immobilizing, an object of love can be, how easily one can shift one's priorities. As an elegantly punctuated bassline glides in the background, the vocalist sings, "I never knew anybody could make me cry like this". Well, I suppose that in Sweden we have time to analyse our lovelorn tears, but it sounds so divine.

Finally, there is My Fantasy. When I think of this song, I remember how excited I was that North Americans received it as the b-side of the single He Keeps Me Alive before the Europeans got a hold of it commercially in any form. Now, when I spoke of straightforward lyrics, I was thinking about this song. It is not only optimistic, but playful, seductive, even sinister, perhaps because of the minor keys. The vocalist muses, "I call you up for a rendezvous, another night with just me and you. / I feel so warm when I meet your eyes. I'm flyin' high somewhere in the skies". It is one of those moments where, in a complex, almost inscrutable tone, she expresses a powerful self-confidence in relation to her lover. The song presents an urgent yet mysterious message of craving, coasting along a classic melody, syncopated bass guitar, punching snares, and a relentless four-to-the-floor bass drum.

Sally Shapiro's new album--well, both of Sally Shapiro's albums, really--offer relief from the more pretentious forms of indie music which pile gratuitous amounts of obscure references onto their works; they effectively convey messages about the most basic and important human emotions juxtaposed with the sleekest, most modern aesthetics available in contemporary music.



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