‘Stupid Love’ is a return to the Hi-NRG synthpop Lady Gaga spent the latter half of the 2010s distancing herself from.
After executing one of the finest brand rehabilitations in Hollywood history – starting with a jazz album with Tony Bennett in 2014, culminating in A Star Is Born’s Oscar glory in 2019 – Steffani Germanotta seems to be slipping back into Leotarded Popstar Mode with ease. But is it all a bit too easy?
Pros: ‘Stupid Love’ is catchy, warm and instantly familiar. Cons: It’s repetitive, even for a Lady Gaga song, while BloodPop®’s bubbling synths and sassy vocal samples can’t quite compensate for the barely-there chorus.
Then again, like ‘Applause’ before it, the lyrics mirror the pop icon’s insatiable desire for mainstream approval and domination: ‘All I ever wanted was LOVE!‘.
This obsession is core to who she is an artist, so perhaps the decision to exploit her comeback hype with the musical equivalent of ‘A previously on Lady Gaga’s pop career…’ montage should come as no surprise. Let’s hope it pays off.
Watch Lady Gaga and her Kindness punks (me neither) fight for ‘Chromatica’ (who honestly knows) in the ‘Stupid Love’ video:
Add to playlist: You’ll want to give the whole album a spin
Remember when Grimes took to the stage at Tesla’s Cybertruck event last November, cosplaying as a ‘Cybergirl’, and introduced boyfriend Elon Musk as ‘my creator’?
At the time, this could have been interpreted as the moment Claire Boucher’s sci-fi fanaticism stumbled too far into self-parody. Fans who feel alienated by the Canadian’s newfound technocrat credentials as the nymph-like queen of Silicon Valley are in luck: new album Miss Anthropocene is too immersive to be outshone by her public image.
Following 2015’s Art Angels, Grimes’ fifth LP is a darker, more subdued effort than that gonzo-pop feast. The titular character has been described by Grimes as the ‘goddess of climate change’, and was conceived during a period of world-weary cynicism. If there’s one thing herself and Musk have in common, it is an apocalyptic passion for artificial intelligence – and Miss Anthropocene frequently revels in mankind’s imminent obsolescence.
‘Darkseid’ (a showcase for Taiwanese rapper 潘PAN) is an unnerving transmission from a dystopian future: ‘Unrest is in the soul / we don’t move our bodies anymore’. Deluxe track ‘We Appreciate Power’ pauses its heavy metal grind to seduce those still clinging to their human flesh: ‘Come on, you’re not even alive / If you’re not backed up on the drive’.
These lofty themes impact some tracks more than others, but Miss Anthropocene’s more personal material only exacerbates the artist’s nihilistic state of mind. ‘My Name Is Dark’ is a grungy rock number about the allure of self-destructive escapism, with Grimes reporting live from the eye of the hurricane: ‘I don’t need sleep anymore / That’s what the drugs are for!’
Made up of guitar samples and soft drums, ‘Delete Forever’ is a devastating reflection on America’s opioid epidemic, inspired by the passing of rapper Lil Peep in 2017. The movie trailer-esque ‘So Heavy I Fell Through the Earth’ and trance glitterbomb ‘Violence’ (featuring producer i_o) are vivid snapshots of a couple’s troubling sex life.
For all of Miss Anthropocene’s volatile flirtations with sci-fi and space opera, closing track ‘IDORU’ returns the record to earth in the most graceful of ways. Beginning with the ambient jibber-jabber of wild birds and assorted fauna, and ending with a chorus of audibly human yelps, its sonic radiance comes as a welcome reminder that even a period of world-weary cynicism must come to its natural end.
Y’all better show some respect, because the original Pussycat Dolls are back.
This is the very same history-making lineup of assorted singers and dancers that threw shapes alongside Busta Rhymes in the video for 2005’s still-omnipresent ‘Don’t Cha’. The only Doll MIA is Melody – and that’s a genuine blow to the comeback hype if, like me (and unlike Cheryl Tweedy), you stan her histrionic ad-libbing.
That one quibble aside, new single ‘React’ is a shockingly strong return. It sounds exactly how PCD should sound in 2020. That is to say – in a word – British.
Drawing on elements of deep house and garage, and structured around a clubby pant-groan breakdown, the song is a savvy way to support a comeback campaign and tour that has so far been UK-centric.
Watch the ageless Pussycat Dolls take it back to the 00s in the ‘React’ video:
What’s the opposite of the ‘sophomore slump’? Dua Lipa’s upcoming LP Future Nostalgia is shaping up to be the perfect example.
Following the techno-disco throwback ‘Don’t Start Now’ – which only broke the Top 10 in America this week – new single ‘Physical’ is a barnstorming full-body workout.
Whereas that first single made an asset of Dua’s cool ‘resting bitch face’ of a vocal, here the singer registers as cool because she utterly lacks composure.
‘Physical’ is pure 80s-diva cheese, shoulder-padded for the gods. The bellowing chorus riffs on Bonnie Tyler’s ‘Holding Out For A Hero’, while an ABBA-esque synth arpeggio effortlessly drills itself in your skull.
It’s rare and refreshing to hear a modern popstar surrender their heart and/or dignity to something as unabashedly Camp™ as this. But if fortune favours the bold, then ‘Physical’ should only continue Dua’s winning streak.
Watch Dua Lipa dance like she ain’t got a choice in the ‘Physical’ video:
It’s impossible for me to discuss Poppy’s third album I Disagree without acknowledging the sensational controversies that I presume she does not agree with.
Moriah Pereira rose to Youtube fame midway through the 2010s as a soft-spoken, platinum-blonde cyborg-doll known as That Poppy. Conceived alongside director and then-boyfriend Titanic Sinclair, the character drew over ten million views with deliberately abstract sketches that parodied human concerns and behaviours, such as eating cotton candy and applying makeup.
Pereira wisely exploited her online infamy to make a dent in the real world as a musician, delivering an unexpectedly credible electro-pop album with 2018’s Am I A Girl?.
There was only one problem: Sinclair had co-hosted a cult Youtube series with another soft-spoken, blonde romantic/creative partner just a few years before. On Computer Show,singer-actress Mars Argo spoke in a distinctly child-like tone that – like Pereira – elevated the script’s surreal humour. In November 2014, less than a year after Argo and Mixter split, Poppy made her world debut. In 2018, Argo filed a lawsuit against Poppy and Mixter, accusing them of replicating a ‘Mars Argo knockoff’.
Flash forward to 2020: the Argo-Pereira-Mixter triangle have just settled their case out of court, and are seemingly ready to move on and never speak to one another ever again. Perhaps most notably, both women now accuse Mixter of emotional and psychological abuse and manipulation.
‘You shouldn’t be anything like me!’
This legal saga has long been a thorn in Poppy’s side. Although she distanced herself from Sinclair prior to the album’s release, you only need to notice his name in the writing credits to understand how fresh all this pain still is. If you can imagine Poppy sucking the poison out of her wound, I Disagree is where she’s spitting it back out.
Picking up where the tail end of Am I…? left off, this ten-track set is a head-on collision of heavy metal and candied vocals. The only reprieve is ‘Nothing I Need’, a synthwave palette cleanser that casually makes light of Argo’s accusations of plagiarism: ‘Someone else will always do it, they’ll do it better / Here’s your prize for competition’.
‘Anything Like Me’ is even more damning in its attempt to exorcise Mixter and Argo: ‘I’m everything she never was / Now everyone’s out for my blood’. As juicy as all this drama is, I’m not thrilled about getting kicks over a female fued in 2020. Luckily, every cry of ‘You shouldn’t be anything like me!’ doubles as both a swipe at Argo, as well as a warning to fans about the perils of being a public figure. This specious argument means my feminist ass can bop guilt-free, wahey!
Thundering guitars and throat-shredding screams are suitable metaphors for Poppy’s hostile rage – but it’s the album’s sudden lurches into chirpy, sing-song refrains that will give you whiplash. ‘Concrete’ is a song about being ‘buried six feet deep’ and ‘covered in concrete’ that also feels the need to burst into a Beach Boys-aping bridge.
But wait, there’s more! In its final lap, the song inexplicably slows down into corny 90s soft rock, transforming Poppy’s grisly request to be turned into a street into something that sounds hilariously wholesome.
Such an anarchic approach to songwriting and life in general is to be expected from an artist in Poppy’s position. I Disagree allows her to start a new decade unburdened by a troubling storyline that has stained her reputation. And yet, to an extent, it’s one that has defined some of her finest work.
Considering the singer is now a brunette (her natural colour) and currently conducting tour meet-and-greets with fans from an upright casket, it’s clear that some kind of strategic rebirth is in the works. Whether or not Pereira would openly agree, Poppy 1.0 still has inextricable ties to the visions of both Sinclair and Argo. If the character must die, this gruesome, cathartic, mini-masterpiece is a fitting eulogy.
And who knows? Perhaps the best is yet to come. As Poppy says, ‘We’ll be safe and sound when it all burns down’.