Throwback: V V Brown’s cruelly underrated ‘Samson & Delilah’

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Score: 10/10

British singer Vanessa Brown has recently been teasing new music via Instagram. In anticipation, I’m revisiting 2013’s cruelly underrated Samson & Delilah

In 2008, V V Brown found herself signed to Island Records and attempting to straddle the post-Lily Allen and Amy Winehouse waves simultaneously with an upbeat retro-soul sound. This ready-made popstar had everything it took to go all the way: a buoyant voice; the catwalk swagger of Grace Jones; and quality singles. 

Songs like ‘Crying Blood’ and ‘Shark In the Water’ were promoted with a coveted Later… with Jools Holland slot and a tie-in with Canadian TV series Degrassi respectively, but nothing really stuck. Debut album Travelling Like the Light quickly faded out on the charts in 2010. A frustrated V V retooled its similarly 50s-inspired follow-up Lollipops & Politics beyond recognition.

Eventually released on V V’s own label three years later, Samson and Delilah remains one of the most drastic artistic resets in pop music history. Doo-wop quirk and crowd-pleasing melodies were jettisoned in favour of cold-blooded electronica, not unlike that of The Knife or late-90’s Madonna (the tracklist even shares two song titles with the seminal Ray of Light), and a concept loosely based on the eponymous biblical tale.

The 11 tracks here – pitched somewhere between ambient and aggressive – feel like the work of a completely different artist. That voice, once supple and engaging, is depressed into a bellowing contralto, a volte-face that unlocks a hidden intensity within the record’s themes of love, heartbreak and resilience. An inspired team of producers, including Pierre-Marie Maulini (M83) and The Invisible frontman Dave Okumu, do their best to obscure and distort it, but no amount of filters can eclipse V V’s hulking presence. 

In her own words, Samson and Delilah is about the ‘tension between strength and weakness’, and this emotional spectrum is explored with gusto. Over menacing bass burbles, ‘Igneous’ casts her as a mountainous, primordial beast desperate to protect her lover: ‘Solid and powerful / No, never be scared.’ By contrast, wilting emo ballad ‘Knife’ chronicles the death spasms of a wounded relationship: “I don’t really feel like trusting / It’s not worth it anymore”.

Seven years on from its release, however, I’d argue that this is an album about the tension between independence and loneliness. The soundscape is a byproduct of true creative freedom. Edgy and trend-resistant, it could never have been achieved under the watchful eye of a major label. You would think this would imbue the record with a sense of triumph and liberation, but it’s the opposite: the songwriting is unrelentingly bleak in a way that reflects the uncertainty of life as an independent artist. 

‘I Can Give You More’ is an unlikely combination of head-spinning trance and Old Testament overtones. Set moments before the superhuman Samson brings down the Temple of Dagon, crushing himself and his enemies underneath, the song finds V V begging her lover to choose peace over violence. Except her vocal is so chopped’n’screwed, only the faintest of syllables emerge from her plea, leaving this Delilah proxy to watch on helplessly as her world is destroyed. Like that nightmare where you try to scream but you can’t.

Not everyone will see eye to eye with Samson and Delilah’s uncompromising vision. ‘Ghosts’ fudges a potentially great chorus with muddy mixing, and even ‘The Apple’ (a Grace Jones by way of Simian Mobile Disco showstopper) evades full anthemic status with a lonely-sounding chorus of oh-oh-oh-woah’s. But those that do will see right into V V Brown’s soul, and the wealth of potential that’s yet to be uncovered. 

‘Stupid Love’ by Lady Gaga is shiny but shallow

‘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:

‘Miss Anthropocene’ by Grimes is a nihilistic space opera

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Rating: 10/10

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.

‘React’ by The Pussycat Dolls wades knee-deep into the UK club scene


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:

‘Physical’ by Dua Lipa is a barnstorming full-body workout

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:

With ‘I Disagree’, Poppy officially becomes one of music’s most fascinating characters

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Rating: 9.0/10 

Add to library: Metalheads will enjoy every track

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’.

‘Rare’ by Selena Gomez couldn’t sound more commonplace

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Rating: 5/10

Add to library: Rare, People You Know, Lose You to Love Me, Look At Her Now

What’s to be done with this Selena Gomez? At best, she’s an impossibly gorgeous singer-actress-TV producer with impeccable taste in A&R teams.

At worst, the 27-year-old validates the views of every pop snob by living up to stale preconceptions of the modern popstar. 

The voice? Paper thin! The songs? Calorie-free! Performance ability? Apathetic to the point of contempt for the institution of music as a whole!!!

Rare is Selena’s first album since the cool, wispy melodies of 2015’s Revival accidentally thrust her ahead of the electropop curve. Rather than grow and course-correct the most embarrassing aspects of her artistry, the campaign has so far been about Selena digging in her heels – which might explain her infamously stiff ‘dancing’ at the American Music Awards last November (a rare bit of promo that Team Gomez has all but scrubbed from the web). 

As much as it pains me to admit, the impact Revival continues to have is difficult to overstate, inspiring everyone from Britney Spears to Camila Cabello (whose worldwide #1 ‘Havana’ pilfered from ‘Same Old Love’), and helped turn songwriter Julia Michaels into a Grammy-nommed star in her own right. I’d go as far as to argue that Selena’s ASMR tease ‘Hands to Myself’ helped pave the way for Billie Eilish’s claustrophobic hellscapes on the charts. 

That Rare should stick largely to the same formula makes sense, both commercially and creatively. Once again, a crack team of songwriters and producers – including Ian ‘New Rules’ Kirkpatrick, Finneas ‘Brother of Billie Eilish’ O’Connell, and Revival masterminds Mattman & Robin – never let the airy, faintly tropical soundscapes overpower Selena’s pipes. There are even moments that appear to make light of their muse’s limited range, such as when shimmery glitchfest ‘Look At Her Now’ preps you for an emphatic chorus… only to drop a laughably basic ‘uhm-uhm-uhm’ refrain. It’s pop trolling at its catchiest. 

When you’re as famous as Selena Gomez, ‘pleasant’ is all your music needs to be in order to gain traction. From echoey ballads (‘Lose You to Love Me’) and lavender-scented midtempos (‘Vulnerable’), right down to the occasional syncopated dance beat (‘Dance Again’, ‘Let Me Get Me’), Rare is blandly pleasant in its execution. ‘Kinda Crazy’ takes the piss with nauseating crazy/baby/shady/lately rhymes, but for the most part, no song on Rare has the audacity to be offensive. That may change come the day Selena must wheeze them out in a live setting.