Had it been unleashed at the height of Obama-era optimism in 2011, Kesha’s new single ‘Raising Hell’ would have a three-week minimum stint at #1 on lock.
The infectious LOL-pop number – replete with horn-driven breakdowns – is as purpose-built for sorority house party playlists as ‘Tik Tok’ or ‘We R Who We R’. At its heart is a message of salvation through sin, a textbook credo for a Kesha song, written for the ‘misfits of creation’.
A welcome difference this time is a dose of churchy delirium (handclaps, dramatic pianos, chintzy organs) that not only allows Kesha to really SANG, but also dovetails nicely with 2017’s GRAMMY-nominated ‘Praying’.
But where that ballad was a searing account of alleged abuse at the hands of disgraced über-producer Dr. Luke, ‘Raising Hell’ is a rapturous celebration of freedom. Even when the unmistakable voice of bounce legend Big Freedia commands you to ‘drop it down low’, this is a party where the guests are drunk on gratitude more than anything else.
Watch Kesha preach the good word and kill her abusive husband(!) in the ‘Raising Hell’ video below:
2009’s party classic “TiK ToK” may have sold Kesha – she’s dropped the “$” for now – as a one-note character, but it was one others wanted to play. A force at her initial peak, she wrote Britney Spears’ hit “Till the World Ends”, and had her schtick jacked by Katy Perry (“California Gurls”), Miley Cyrus and LMFAO.
For all the bludgeoning EDM and Auto-Tune, there was a perceptibly punk bent to Kesha Sebert’s music. She can belt like a rock star, but knows dance music is more conducive to free love than any other.
“Praying” – her first single in four years, and first shot at a ballad release – is upsetting for many reasons, but the shadow it casts over her dollar-sign days is its first knife-twist. Addressing her troubling legal battle with producer Dr. Luke, Kesha takes the high road, and seeks to see the best in her abuser.
Religious references abound, but more so musically then lyrically. Ryan Lewis’s piano is the song’s backbone, propping up a quiet, dignified chorus, even as it blossoms into a stomping country-gospel rapture: “I hope you’re somewhere praying / I hope your soul is changing”.
Kesha’s naked vocal is impressive, and her zesty, adenoidal tone channels the melody better than any studio trickery could. A quiet admission of “I’m proud of who I am” is the link between her old and new material. Kesha’s self-love has suffused her search for both carnage and catharsis – so as long as she has it, the party is far from over.