What "A sprightly, angsty pop burrito"
Where New York
Why It can take time living in the world for artists to truly represent themselves in their music. Caroline Rose is proof of that. In 2014 she was pegged as an Americana folk-rock youngling with, in I Will Not Be Afraid, a debut album in thrall to its predecessors.
Four years later Rose has lived. Feeling disconnected from her music and the modern world, the New York musician decided to embrace it. At 25 she joined Tinder, rented her first apartment, socialised more, wore red all the time and got a girlfriend. They travelled, then broke up. Rose discussed “politics, capitalism and Rihanna” and put herself out in the world.
The self-described queer feminist has put her real experience into her invigorating new album, Loner, which she says is equally inspired by Kate Bush, Justin Timberlake and 1970s punk. It's as bright and vibrant as her new clothes and, she says, reflects her true personality and experiences from her circle of friends – an accidental pregnancy, financial stability and unfaithful lovers. They're serious songs wrapped in a sprightly, angsty pop burrito, according to her label.
Loner is a dark-edged album of manic and millennial pop, drawing on indie rock, surf music, synth hooks and bright production – which Rose, recognising the lack of gender diversity in the field, is keen to take credit for. "I wanted to make sure everything was as me as it could possibly be," she says. Listen here.
You have to hear this
Chvrches: My Enemy (featuring Matt Berninger)
The Scottish electro-pop trio Chvrches return in May with their third album, Love Is Dead. The band's first song this year, Get Out, was typical of their catchy sound, but My Enemy is much more sonically interesting. Enlisting the laconic singer from The National, the duet slow down the tempo to a crystalline synth ballad that wouldn't sound out of place on a Blade Runner soundtrack. Listen here.
DJ Koze: Illumination (featuring Róisín Murphy)
There was a time when Róisín Murphy seemed to feature on someone else's track every other week, but then, no matter the volume or situation, the Wicklow singer's voice has been a treat for the ears since the days of Moloko and Sing It Back. On Illumination she adds some human soul to the German producer's mechanical dance production. "I need a bit of light here," Murphy quips on the track, as if narrating her presence. Listen here.
