i am so sorry to report that i thought this was incredibly boring. went in with high hopes, but no, it really is just gliding along flavourlessly. choke enough, harvest sky, and the baby-track "plague dogs" are all sound, serviceable pieces of music that cross into being good and memorable, but i can't honestly say i noticed the rest of this lp. leaves your head as soon as the tracks are finished, 90% of the time. not dismal, but flat and dull.

A wonderfully silky meditation on alienation and the dream that it could all become something different.

i appreciate that i am late to the party, but i just wanted to second all the praise that this has received. i adore adore adore the mixing on this thing. dreamy shoegaze that has me feeling like i'm floating into the clouds will always have my thumbs up. my only note is that this feels somewhat baseline and like an emulation, but it is a pleasant effort. i look forward to seeing where this sound is taken.

One or two delightful B-sides, some blatant cash-grabs, left-over vocals, skeletal production.

Overall, desolate and empty in a way that somehow cheapens her life's work.

An album that threatened a fresh British Invasion with its harkening back to a musical aesthetic that you could only describe as an American bedrock; it is a shame that much of it is a paler imitation, though the "pop" in pop soul here really kicks the door down with one of the strongest hooks this century, and there is definite grit lurking behind some of the Ronson Polish.

FAVS: Rehab, You Know I'm No Good, Just Friends, Back to Black

Least FAVS: Some Unholy War, Addicted, ... read more

Kim P. coded, with more personality. Being fair though, even at her least interesting and most fraught with error (as this is), Shygirl tramples the try-hard Slutpopper into dust. Doesn't save us from the conclusion that Je M'appelle is far from Immaculate, though.

In which LISA shows us her multiple personalities - one of them is really big on the top-40 disco revivalism that hasn't been particularly notable for three years now, and another is really into by-the-numbers trap beats, for example. Granted, some of these features do work pretty damn well - FUTURE and ROSALIA probably earned the cheques - but so much of this swerves through bland (Rockstar, Thunder, BADGRRRRL) and into bad (Elastigirl, Dream) that it misses the mark for me.

A shame, ... read more

Some high highs (Eden, Verity, TSOABF) and some pretty dismal lows (Cedar Stairwell, American Mythos, Chaos) leave me feeling kind of unsatisfied overall. The record shines most when it murmurs, and bellyflops unconvincingly when it tries to howl. It doesn't help that there are some vocal performances here that are, uh, stretching it.

It is unfortunate, because this touches on queer loneliness, politics, etc. in ways that I don't often come across, with a sense genuine depth. The ... read more

The definition of all-killer no-filler.

If only more artists were able to carry out this kind of exercise in quality control.

"You Knew Exactly What You Were Buying" hits much differently than I think she anticipated. Because the queer audience to which she deliberately marketed herself did not, naturally.

I feel kind of obligated to reflect on this album in that light even now, because I think in the end the contradiction between person and artistic persona came together so fully in 2023 that it gave the game away in one sense: She doesn't get a lot of the queer stuff. I don't think she ever did. ... read more

(un)happy hardcore cheesy masterpiece with some of my favourite sampling in a moment or two. at least we got *something* out of the detestable EBU favouring the vicious Israeli delegation last year.

maybe a product of my nostalgia for some of my dad's 90s club cds, but whatever. i dig it. it hits me right.

the musical equivalent of your best friend in high school trying to be edgy and doing their own piercing only to wind up with a belly button oozing sixteen different kinds of pus. offensively bad, faux-vulnerable/artsy, and why this woman has retained any kind of cult/teenage following when the hits are shit and the deep cuts are a crime against aural perception i could not tell you.

this is *shite* shite. absolutely abysmal. no thanks.

update: relistened twice, and for as insubstantially queer-camp 80s cheese in 90s polish as this thing is, i couldn't give a fuck - it slaps. upgrading from a 50 to a 70. DoAs really electrifying here. who gaf about pitchfork - they wouldn't know fun until they were hit in the head with it in the 2010s anyway!

to this day, i still can't believe kathleen hanna actually went through with this. i can't believe pitchfork put it out.

So close to not being mid. Still mid. But so close.

Purple Lace Bra is *SHITE*, and that vocal style is as grating and unoriginal now as it has been since she got into this business. I'm also left feeling like once you've heard McRae do two different songs, you'll never hear anything new from her again, because it's all fairly recycled/by the numbers. Sorry Tate. Ew.

dead or alive made this album like seven times, but no attempt was quite as successful as this one.

the music is *fine*, but we all know by now that the main attraction is the exceptionally charismatic pete burns, who serves image, stardom, and abrasiveness across their entire body of work like few others could. as a relic of british "celebrity", i miss him.

Though the year has allowed Juno in particular to grow on me so substantially, the deluxe tracks are ultimately a blob of icing on a mostly stale cupcake.

Astonished to discover that Alessia Cara is capable of recording music that is both "decent" and "not a total sanctimonious cringefest" lyrically.

Still just ok though.

While aesthetically and symbolically this album touches on some of the themes and sounds that made "Blackout" so great, you can't help but feel that this is a zombie creation. Britney has been shoved on the stage, producers micro-managed to pump out noises that feel like an amalgamation of her career thus far, and she has been told to dance.