Fright Sound Tape: Your Halloween party playlist

My PostMore than any other night of the year, Halloween is your chance to dance like you’re somebody – or something – else.

giphy

Don’t fuck it up! Turn off the lights, fill up your goblet, and whack on this spooky Spotify playlist of 20 holy Halloween classics – 10 old, 10 new.

1. Echo & The Bunnymen – The Killing Moon (1984)

‘Fate up against your will.

Through the thick and thin.

He will wait until

you give yourself to him’

‘The Killing Moon’ is a great post-punk rock record, period. The chorus above unravels with spontaneous grace, every word coming naturally and serving a purpose. Okay, purpose might be too active a word. The song’s presiding feeling is one of resignation – an acceptance of Fate’s master plan.

At the story’s centre is a romance doomed to end in at least one death. But the plot beats are signposted by gothic symbolism that keep things just on the right side of ghoulish fun. A serious piece of music then, but one that evokes the morbidity of the Halloween season as organically as a bloodied butcher knife.

2. Lady Gaga – Bad Romance (2009)

Catchy monster sounds? Yas! Nightmarish storytelling? Yas! Dance routine? Yaaaaass!

3. Michael Jackson – Thriller (1982)

The iconic ‘Thriller’ video opens with a disclaimer that Michael Jacksonin no way endorses a belief in the occult‘. Scoff as we might of the quaintness of the message – perhaps it was necessary. After all, no one in pop culture icon before or since has made the supernatural look more fun.

4. Britney Spears – Freakshow (2007)

Britney has never been afraid to experiment, sprinkling this slut-dropper with menacing dubstep wobbles way back in ‘07.

5. Bobby Boris Pickett – The Monster Mash (1962)

My friends and I sang the entirety of ‘The Monster Mash’ at our school talent show when we were 16 – with absolutely no backing track. That’s how iconic it is.

6. OutKast featuring Kelis – Dracula’s Wedding (2003)

Even when playing vampires sentenced an eternity together, Kelis and André 3000 are a match made in heaven.

7. Grace Jones – I’ve Seen That Face Before (Libertango) (1981)

Fusing a classic Argentine tango with reggae arrangements, this is a Frankenstein’s Monster of a song. But as usual, it’s Miss Grace Jones – singing with suicidal detachment – who brings the spook.

8. Childish Gambino – Boogieman (2016)

Like much of Donald Glover’s “Awaken, My Love!” LP, ‘Boogieman’ uses horror clichés to allude to racial tension in America: ‘But if he’s scared of me / How can we be free?

9. Cerrone – Supernature (1977)

TL;DR ‘Donna Summer does “The Monster Mash”’.

10. Katy Perry – Dark Horse (2014)

Shielded by walls of trap-for-kidz – before the real thing dominated radio – Katy plays the role of sexy sorcerer with aplomb.

11. Warren Zevon – Werewolves of London (1978)

Sharp imagery – ‘Saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand’ – and a howl-along chorus. What’s not to love?

12. Rihanna – Disturbia (2008)

There is a grim irony in this four-on-the-floor headfuck being co-written by Rihanna’s own Big Bad, Chris Brown.

13. Talking Heads – Psycho Killer (1973)

It’s almost unfair that we associate one music’s finest basslines with David Byrne’s paean to the murderous mind. But on an eerie October evening, the pairing emulsifies splendidly.

14. Peaches – Trick or Treat (2009)

A sleazy synthpop romp – with a lesson Michael Myers and his sexually active prey can agree on: ‘Never go to bed without a piece of raw meat.’

15. Rockwell – Somebody’s Watching Me (1984)

Rockwell owes a debt to Michael Jackson’s generous ‘backing vocals’ (he does the unshakeable hook), but the one-hit-wonder’s own paranoid rants are worth the price of entry alone.

16. Shakira – She Wolf (2009)

The lycanthropic ‘ah-woos’ may be fabulously half-hearted, but the Columbian superstar’s sexual liberation is anything but.

17. Screamin’ Jay Hawkins – I Put A Spell On You (1956)

The legendary blues singer claims not to remember recording ‘I Put A Spell On You’. How fitting that he wails like a man possessed.

18. Travis Scott featuring Kendrick Lamar – Goosebumps (2017)

The goosebumps in question are romantic ones, but the horror-movie atmospherics still get under the skin.

19. The Rolling Stones – Sympathy For the Devil (1974)

Going solely by its lively groove, you could almost forget this is a darkly comic celebration of Satan’s role in historical atrocities. A devilish sleight of (red right) hand that makes it perfect for a Halloween party playlist.

20. Kanye West, Jay-Z and Nicki Minaj – Monster (2010)

On a career-defining verse, Nicki swaps alter egos with the ferocity of Linda Blair in The Exorcist. But by the end, the Minaj brand is as recognisable as any Halloween costume.

 

Daphne & Celeste’s comeback album is an unpredictable triumph

DY1L7ogWsAAbdyh

Hey Daphne, whatever happened to Yazz?

It’s a shoulder-tapping question on an album that begs a few of them. What divine force brought the gruesome twosome behind early-noughties school playground anthems ‘U.G.L.Y’ and ‘Ooh Stick You’ near a recording booth again? And why did wonky-pop maestro Max Tundra choose to write and produce his first full-length in ten years for them?

The point is, in a parallel universe, Tundra’s pop obsession runs so deep, he could have just as easily gifted …Save the World to 80s singer Yazz (she of ‘The Only Way is Up‘ fame) , or Taylor Dayne, or Shocking Blue, two more flash-in-the-pan icons name-checked in the same song. And they’d be lucky to have it. The album is a touching tribute to the juvenile sugar rush only class A drugs and supposedly throwaway music can provide, all while managing to sound fresh and unpredictable.

But make no mistake: this record belongs as much to Daphne & Celeste as it does to the man twiddling the knobs. Thrown into the pop machine as teenagers, fronting singles overflowing with insults – which they would fearlessly perform to a violently drunk crowd at Reading 2000 – the pair’s story is unique, and the best tracks tend to play off their serendipitous friendship.

Tundra makes heavy use of vocoders to heighten, rather then tame, their cartoonish personalities. On ‘BB’, they take ‘basic buskers’ to task for clogging the charts with heteronormative drivel. An Ed Sheeran-skewering guitar-and-vocal refrain gives the song a solid melodic foundation, but in a meta twist, the girls make no effort to hide their disdain for it: ‘This is the first thing you figure out when you get a guitar’.

…Save the World is aimed squarely at those with a sweet tooth for irony-laden pop. Daphne & Celeste & Max spend so much time winking, they may well have been legally blind recording these songs, and ‘Sunny Day’ and closer ‘Kandy Korn’ arguably push the 90s-Nickelodeon-show-on-crack vibe an inch too far. That said, if you can’t hear an inexplicable beauty in the acid-trance gem ‘Alarms’, then maybe you don’t deserve to be saved.

8.5 / 10

cupcakKe’s “Queen Elizabitch” delivers the sex-positive pop we deserve

cupcakKeSince last year’s minor viral hit “Vagina”, cupcakKe’s been cornering the sex-positive alt-hip-pop market. The Chicago-born rapper leaves little to the imagination – not only with graphic, spit-take one-liners (“I save dick by giving it CPR”), but by also committing to her fully-rounded persona for each and every song. 

cupcakKe dropped three mixtapes in 2016, and Queen Elizabitch is her first album proper. The bought-in beats are tighter, but the execution is scattered – pushing listeners off the dance floor and into a hard-faced confessional a little too often.

The split between Queen Elizabitch’s teeth-bearing hip-hop and X-rated dalliances with the mainstream works because neither style tries to diminish the virtues of the other. The cupcakKe eloquently recounting her impoverished childhood on “Scraps” is no more complex or worthy than the one asking to be creampied throughout “Cumshot”.

Vulgarity is the common thread – whether she’s marking her territory over menacing trap (“Bitch you ain’t hard / Probably run from the sound of a fart”), or giving life-saving blowjobs on the irresistible “Cpr”, which reworks “La Macarena” for 2017, and may be more quotable than Mean Girls.

The album continues the “Reality” saga from cupcakKe’s mixtapes. Part 4 charts the rapper’s torrid journey, and accepts her growing fame with grace. But as a dose of reality, it falls flat, simply because the character never feels like a fantasy. In fact, the body-positive “Biggie Smalls” overflows with humanity.

Furnished with tropical house synths and arpeggio squalls, it’s as commercial as Queen Elizabitch gets. What makes it special are actionable tips in lieu of dull platitudes, including “Fuck a dude if he don’t like small boobs”. There’s a gap in the market for such candour, and something tells us cupcakKe will have a great time filling it. 

8/10

Lorde is all go on “Green Light”

lorde-lol-x

Feels so scary getting old…Lorde sang on her artfully blasé 2012 debut Pure Heroine. She was 16 then, but life doesn’t sound any easier on new single “Green Light”.

The titular metaphor refers to the moment one feels freed from a bad breakup. In a hushed yet haughty preamble, Lorde taunts an unfaithful ex with flat, self-indulgent barbs: “She thinks you love the beach, you’re such a damn liar.

When flapping synths circle Lorde’s voice, the song finally bottles the brooding, youthful valour that made her a household name, only to pour it over a delicate house-piano riff.

Troubled thoughts stack up, even as “Green Light” flings itself into skirt-twirling euphoria. Lorde’s assiduous phrasing isn’t a natural fit for house music, but every bellow of “I wish I could get my things, and just let go” casts a long, upsetting shadow.

A last-minute surge of handclaps, scuzzy guitar, and reverb-drenched chants make this an ideal progression from Pure Heroine’s electro-chamber pop. Anyone older than Lorde knows adulthood isn’t that scary, but for now, her growing pains are our gain.

The good fight continues on Run The Jewels 3

rtj3

Fucking fascists –
Who the fuck are you to give fifty lashes?

2016’s conceptually bold, socially aware releases weren’t just embraced by the mainstream – they set a precedent for any artist looking to maximise their platform. Run The Jewels’ latest might seem like another silver lining in a torrid political climate, but it’s really just business as usual for the hip-hop supergroup.

Since the first instalment in their self-titled trilogy in 2014, El-P and Killer Mike have been harbingers of revolution. Both are exceptional rappers with strong principles, touching on everything from drug wars to Black Lives Matter to reciprocal oral sex. In the wake of last year’s U.S election, their fight against oppression continues on RTJ3.

The duo’s music still sounds huge and extraterrestrial. It verges on intimidating, but there’s a lot of colour, and El-P’s beats are proud in their artificiality. On “Call Ticketron”, synths wriggle wildly, culminating in a sudden rave-y finale. “Panther Like A Panther” is a luminous fusion of trap and breakbeat textures.

A slow and sweet opener, “Down” reflects on a troubled past, and insists perseverance is the only option in surprisingly gentle terms. The skulking “Thieves (Screamed the Ghost)” is more resigned, with a tormented El-P begging for a night’s reprieve from the world’s injustices: “Some get to count sheep, some gotta count kids that they burying”.

Songs don’t come more charged than “Hey Kids (Bumaye)” – using a Congolese expression meaning “Kill him” to incite an uprising against influential business moguls – but RTJ3 is hardly inaccessible. “Stay Gold” wields a fun, spelt-out hook, digressing from politics entirely to paint a portrait of a relationship that’s dripping in gratitude. 

10/10

Katy Perry is wide awake on “Chained to the Rhythm”

katy-perry

“Chained to the Rhythm” is the closest Katy Perry has come to a political statement. Over an italo-disco groove reminiscent of Carly Simon’s “Why”, the singer both condones and condemns a generation adept at blocking out the world’s woes.

Producer Max Martin doesn’t budge from his power-pop formula, swaddling Perry’s epiphanies in pastel synths and slippery bass. At times it even works as a snarky endorsement of cheap escapism (“Put your rose-coloured glasses on, and party on”).

The chorus is wordy and elastic, ending on a clunky hook that betrays Sia’s co-writing credit. Perry’s moral awakening is perhaps best summed up by Skip Marley (grandson of Bob) in a rousing and hopeful verse: “We’re about to riot / they woke up the lions!

The 30 best pop songs of 2016 (part one)

30. PARTYNEXTDOOR – Not Nice

As the man behind Rihanna’s “Work”, PartyNextDoor gave pop’s baddest bitch a momentous start to 2016. Yet the elegant soca of “Not Nice” suggests he doesn’t have much time for attitude. “Girl, you’re not nice, you’re rude,” he sings, eschewing “Hotline Bling”-style pettiness for a refreshing shot of sensitivity.

29. The Weeknd – Starboy (feat. Daft Punk)

Money. Drugs. Women. Lyrically, “Starboy” is firmly in The Weeknd’s wheelhouse. The solid-gold elephant in his echoey abode is a struggle with ubiquitous fame, steeping the collar-popping brags in paranoia. Daft Punk only add to the drama with digital blips, a strong hiccuping backbeat, and robotic backing vocals that come in shivers.  

28. Nick Jonas – Bacon (feat. Ty Dolla $ign)

Nick is an old-fashioned popstar – a Just Seventeen coverboy with a voice that sounds perennially romantic. In a bid for some edge, “Bacon” weighs up the virtues of bachelor living and domestic bliss. It’s all deftly arranged: ambient synths fizz, the percussion tickles, and there’s a snap-and-retract hook that would make Aaron Carter jealous.

27. Tove Lo – Cool Girl

More than a tribute to Gillian Flynn’s famous Gone Girl monologue, “Cool Girl” explores the balance of power in a no-strings relationship. Lyrics like I wanna be free like youchallenge potential double standards, while Tove Lo’s half-spoken vox linger over every syllable to a sensual degree, giving her suitor just a taste of what could be in-store.

26. Usher – Crash

Would you mind if I still love you?” Usher croons on “Crash”. The world responded with a shrug, but the 38 year-old pop veteran can take pride in this honourable stab at relevancy. That crystal-clear falsetto shines like moonlight on the minimalist electro-R&B, even if it fails to fit among radio’s current obsession with dodgy diction.

25. AlunaGeorge – Mean What I Mean (feat. Leikeli47 & Dreezy)

A hipster “Lady Marmalade” with an up-to-the-minute tropical house beat, “Mean What I Mean” was 2016’s best consent anthem. Predictably, there’s a post-chorus drop that sounds like an irate animal (this time an elephant), but the wordplay is sharp, and Aluna and rappers Leikeli47 and Dreezy work alarmingly well as a supergroup.

24. LIV – Wings of Love

“Wings of Love” flies a bit too close Fleetwood Mac’s sun to be considered fresh, but it’s still an impressive debut from supergroup LIV, starring singer Lykke Li, Miike Snow, Peter Bjorn & John. Predictably cloying lyrics – “I wanna live, I wanna die, on a silver lining” etc. – are nimbly illustrated by the band’s Tusk-era harmonies. 

23. Ray BLK – Chill Out (feat. SG Lewis)

I hate to be so goddamn depressive,” Ray BLK half-apologises on the fuckboy-frying “Chill Out”. Unraveling 8-bit Power Ups and sawtooth waves follow the example set by the title, but it’s the south London singer’s verbal castrations that elevate the track from a Soundcloud hit to a promising calling card.

22. Keke Palmer – Hands Free

Keke Palmer’s résumé largely sports mellow but modern R&B,  so for now the panting dancehall of “Hands Free” is an anomaly. Luckily, she’s nothing if not versatile, spitting out unabashedly horny lines (“If I wind it back, would you promise to break my bone?”) like Rihanna on payday, before dropping into an erotic lower register that’s all her own.

21. Britney Spears – Do You Wanna Come Over?

How should Britney Spears sound in 2016? Staccato urban-pop guitars, a dilating bassline and a sexy if slightly non-committal vocal do the trick on “Do You Wanna Come Over?” Juicy electropop production and a rambunctious chorus chant do some heavy lifting, but Britney herself hasn’t been this fun since 2008’s Blackout.

20. Drake – One Dance

Following the blueprint of his 2011 Rihanna collaboration “Take Care”, “One Dance” stuffs another under-the-radar gem (minor UK garage hit “Do You Mind?”) with Drake’s signature, puppy-eyed self-loathing. Gentrified afrobeats mesh awkwardly with tinny house piano – but as Drake himself admits, this is a song to hear with a Hennessy in hand.

19. Ariana Grande – Into You

They don’t make them this anymore. Grande is a dab hand at scaling huge Eurodance melodies, and “Into You” is her most extravagant uptempo yet. Hooks like “a little less conversation, and a little more touch-my-body” bring spectacle, but super-producer Max Martin takes his time building from bare ribbed synths to a chugging, neon-lit rave.

18. Lady Gaga – Perfect Illusion

Before the track’s premier in September, a 16-second “Perfect Illusion” clip drove fans into a frenzy with the same snarling guitar chord. It was a perfect preview: from there on out, Lady Gaga’s comeback single became a relentless, scorned stomper. Not even Kevin Parker’s (Tame Impala) stoned synths can anaesthetise Gaga’s ferocious delivery.

17. Zara Larsson – Lush Life

This 2015 Swedish hit only found its footing in the UK this summer, but it’s double-barrel chorus still hits like a trayful of Jägerbombs. Zara Larsson’s tangy pronunciation verges on patois at times, making her perfect match for an unmistakably breezy beat powered by clucking synths and playground hand claps.

16. Kaytranada – You’re the One (feat. Syd)

Canadian electro-hip-hop wonderkid Kaytranada and The Internet’s Syd have history. The same woozy sex appeal heard on 2015’s “Girl” is poured into the eminently more danceable “You’re the One”. The barely-lucid groove can’t judge Syd for inviting a destructive lover with a whipsmart bargaining chip: “If I survive, baby you’re the one”.

15. Rae Srummerd – Black Beatles

Sonically foreboding, trap seems to be at its most lucrative when spun as an alternative to sugary pop hits. Despite their stakes in the genre, sibling duo Rae Srummerd are born entertainers. “Black Beatles” marries their goofy energy with swirling fever-dream keyboards to create a credible hit that could become the status quo.

14. Laura Mvula – Overcome (feat. Nile Rodgers)

Beginning with a half-spoken preamble that threatens to taper off, “Overcome” sounds unlikely to achieve the Dionysian rush hinted at by opulent strings and Nile Rodgers’ subtle but funky rhythm guitar. Mvula’s songwriting acts as a pithy appetizer before the track’s rapturous orchestral bellow is unleashed, but her presence is unmistakable.

13. Flume – Never Be Like You

Australian electro-prodigy Flume stews Timbaland’s sliding mid-00’s R&B melodies in bubbling future bass on “Never Be Like You”. The hooks initially come in dribs and drabs as Kai sluices her voice through the Flumes latticed, spasmodic synths, but this is the chill-out power ballad of a generation.

12. Unloved – When a Woman Is Around

Unloved brings together composers David Holmes and Keefus Ciancia, and singer Jade Vincent. The result is as cinematic as you would expect, yet the group’s jazz-inclined psychedelia stands on its own. On “When a Woman Is Around”, Vincent’s tones ooze old Hollywood glamour, before exploding into a chorus indebted to 60’s girl groups.

11. David Bowie – I Can’t Give Everything Away

On the very last track on David Bowie’s very last album, there’s an occasional twinge of wheeziness – both to Bowie’s stately vocal, and synths that sprint towards the finish line. Burdened with a seemingly impossible task, “I Can’t Give Everything Away” never loses its focus, and somehow ends an iconic career on a miraculous high.

#10 – #1

Tove Lo is still out of control on “Lady Wood” – and she’s getting better at it

13768318_631554713685015_1811533539_n

Stream on Spotify | Buy on iTunes

Lady Wood, the latest release from Swedish pop export Tove Lo, is a two-part concept album detailing the stock millennial relationship’s salacious lifespan – how they transpire, dissolve, and (possibly) reanimate.

“Fairy Dust” is the hazy soundtrack to fresh lust gussied up as a genuine connection; “Fire Fade” tries to sweep the embers of said passion into something resembling order. Yet for all of Tove’s sexual liberation, these ten new tracks are musically conservative.

Lady Wood is proficient house-pop: the beats are icy and clipped, low-end synths seep like an ominous fog, and the hooks are almost entirely vocal-driven.

For much of “Influence”, the chorus production is so stark, you can practically feel Tove’s breath on your face as she purrs, “You know I’m under the influence / so don’t trust every word I say.” She’s less a less illusive character for the title track’s beautifully sincere come-on: “I know what people say about you / they say the same about me.”

A slick instrumental drop is never too far away,  but “True Disaster” scores points for building to a heavenly fastigium, with Tove groaning “Keep playing ’em, like…” into an electrical storm, apparently on the verge of orgasm. It’s a well-arranged climax, even if you see it coming the moment the track’s rather standard digital stutter whooshes in.

“Vibes”, a trippy duet with itchy-throated singer Joe Janiak, spices things up with some acoustic guitar, but you’re more likely to remember Janiak’s processed bleating.

Inspired by Gillian Flynn’s biting Gone Girl paradigm of female perfection, “Cool Girl” is the narrative’s most ‘balanced’ segment in terms of power. “I wanna be free like you” is Tove’s invitation to no-strings fun, highlighting her own independence and throwing down the gauntlet for any potential double standards.

The “I’m a cool girl / I’m-a / I’m-a / cool girl” hook loops around a oscillating bassline in hypnotic fashion, but Lady Wood‘s tempo rarely veers from moderate. That said, “Don’t Talk About It” is an R&B curveball, offering a tantalising idea of what Destiny’s Child might sound like in 2016.

“Keep It Simple” begins as a ballad with some hip sexting references, before launching into a moving rejection of intimacy with squidgy synths and a classic house diva refrain. It’s not quite the dance floor hymn it could have been, but Tove’s desperate cries of “I ain’t ready for ya!” jabs at a culpability in her own loneliness. 

Closing track “WTF Is Love” concludes with a bark of “Awh, FUCK! I need another.” Followed by the sound of a drink pouring, this final statement neatly trickles back into the “Fairy Dust” intro, ultimately positioning Lady Wood as a ceaseless bender. Two additional chapters are due next year, but don’t expect them to sound like a guilt-ridden hangover.

Tove’s ‘drug and sex-mad everywoman’ persona isn’t revolutionary, but it is notable for its lack of naivety. Within the space of a verse, her songwriting often acknowledges the apex and nadir of a single encounter. This approach doesn’t allow for breakthroughs or shameful epiphanies. Tove Lo is out of control by choice, and she’s getting better and better at it.

8.5/10

‘Living My Life’ by Grace Jones is a satisfying end to an iconic trilogy

gracejones

Available to buy on iTunes

Where Grace Jones breathed her brand of noirish pomposity into taut reggae reinterpretations and a handful of originals on her seminal 1981 album Nightclubbing, its follow-up and the final installment of her Compass Point trilogy Living My Life is a lighter and less self-conscious record.

Here, the sole cover is Melvin Van Peebles’ “The Apple Stretching”, a drowsy, largely spoken-word ode to New York City.

You may feel shortchanged by the omission of the punk–tinged and thrillingly relevant title track, featuring a head-turning lyric more befitting the name of a memoir: “As much as I can / as black as I am!”. Written by Jones herself, its new wave thrash would’ve nonetheless have sounded incongruous among the album’s balmier productions.

There’s a reason the set’s first two tracks “My Jamaican Guy” and “Nipple to the Bottle” are the only ones to make it into Jones’ current live repertoire with any regularity. On first listen, the tracks that follow serve almost as B-sides to their precise yet transcendent structures.

It helps that both songs capture two very important sides of an albeit multifaceted personality – with its oft-sampled opening splashes of liquid-gold synth, “My Jamaican Guy” is pure stoned romanticism, while “Nipple to the Bottle” sports a vicious bite.

Were it not crammed with scintillating insights into Jones’ relationship with artist Jean Paul Goude, “Nipple” could be embraced by any oppressed minority. Over smacking drums and a scorched, wriggling beat reminiscent of “Pull Up to the Bumper”, her voice may only fleetingly scratch beneath the surface of her pain, but every steadfast protest of “I won’t give in, / and I won’t feel guilty!” is repeated by a mob seemingly on the front line of a coup.

Later, Jones lays down the gauntlet in spectacular fashion: “If I don’t give it, / how you gonna get it?”. By challenging a lover to get their kicks either by force or an outside party, Jones automatically puts herself in the right, and once again symbolises complete autonomy.

The hit single “My Jamaican Guy” is a different beast. That famous preamble is led by the hand, “Club Tropicana”-style, into the smokiest, most soulful fleapit Kingston has to offer, but Jones’ earworm songwriting holds its own against such an authentic sound. Her witty patois chorus features variations on the lyric “‘cause he’s laid back / not laying back”, and Grace lovingly describing her amour as never standing by the door / just stretching out pan de floor / that way him don’t fall over” is something only she would do.

Little else on the second half can match the modern appeal of these two tracks, nor is there anything as avant garde as “Private Life” or “I’ve Seen That Face Before (Libertango)” from 1980’s Warm Leatherette and Nightclubbing to be found.

“Everybody Hold Still” sails by on corny storytelling and a distracted vocal. Once again, an excitable choir is employed on the chorus, but the melody is ineffectual. More successful is “Cry Now – Laugh Later”, which spins such potentially bitter subjects as deportation and car hijackings into a celebratory groove, aided by funky organ-like keyboards and slo-mo guitar plucks.

R&B ballad “Inspiration” showcases Jones’ impeccable restraint as a vocalist, particularly on a soaring bridge that’s straight out of the Bowie CliffsNotes. Considering this would be Jones’ last release with creative soulmates Sly Dunbar and Robbie Shakespeare until 2008’s Hurricane, it’s the musical equivalent of posting an advert for a new svengali on CraigsList. Tucking lyrics like “I’m hoping to find a new source of information / I’ll step off the line / I’ve been searching for some inspiration” towards the album’s end is a poignant touch.

Despite its lack of truly shocking highs, Living My Life is a satisfying end to an iconic and game-changing trilogy. In a pop landscape where strict quality control can be something of a novelty, one might even wish that title track was on hand to add some grit. It would have stuck out like a sequined thumb, but then isn’t ostentatiousness what Grace Jones does best?

8.5/10