St. Vincent
St. Vincent Released by Loma
Vista and Republic Records
St. Vincent may still be an unfamiliar name to most people, but she’s already released three albums and after a brief stint with David Byrne of Talking Heads fame, she has released her self-titled fourth album.
Band leader, Annie Clarke, takes her already weird and fuzzed out guitars and mixes them with deep lyrics about troubles in a tech-driven age, regret, and even religious themes while biting on every note.
Despite the ugly tone of her guitars, each song is balanced out by her enchanting vocals and echoing synth parts.
Ripping out the gate is the strangely 8-bit sounding “Rattlesnake” that not only drops a chorus that begs chanting, but a solo that roars with vicious life.
While lyrically a little confusing, “Birth In Reverse” is musically both catchy and unpredictable. It demands repeated listens and Clarke’s cheeky singing makes it all the more intriguing.
The album then switches gears to the slowburning “Prince Johnny.” The song spends most of its time on less-than-gripping choir chants before reaching the more gripping calls of its siren-esque chorus.
Clarke brings another gear-switcher with “Huey Newton.”
Starting with slow jazz over hip hop, the song then bursts into an enveloping instrumental section before breaking into the heavy and gritty “you know” section, pulling in any listener in and demanding they pay attention.
The smart and quirky “Digital Witness” takes David Byrne’s influence on Clarke and force-feeds it through one track. Filled with brass, synths, and on-point lyrics about the media age, it’s one of the stand-out listens of the album.
“I Prefer Your Love” slows things down again for a synth-washed love song filled with beautiful instrumentation and powerful lyrics about faith in other people over religion.
“Bring Me Your Loves” spares no time playing nice and starts dark, bringing even Clarke’s vocals into a lo-fi, disharmonious growl. The song plays like a tribal chant from an angry god and it’s hungry.
“Every Tear Disappears” plays heavy and weird, jumping between super heavy and eerily empty and plays with licks that are too weird to pass over.
The album closes on the final sounding “Severed Crossed Fingers” which echoes like a ticking clock and finishes the album on a sappy but sonically mesmerizing note.
St. Vincent keeps evolving by making her weird brand of fuzzy, jazz-rock even stranger and sonically intense. If she keeps on this route her next album will be just as mesmerizing but just as foreign, and that’s for the best.
