Album: La Roux – La Roux

ALBUM REVIEW: La Roux – S/T
words: Jamie Milton

Is the battle for the Queen of pop 2009 dictated by image? I mean this seriously. For instance, ‘Hands’ has become a relative flop of sorts, ‘Lungs’ looks to do quite the opposite. Maybe the difference between Florence Welch and Victoria Hesketh is that Welch now has this harp-playing-nu-Kate-Bush thing going for her. There was nothing in the promotional campaign for Little Boots’ debut album that was provocative or new. And with La Roux you have what many would first cite before and if they talk of the music: the hair. It’s opened eyes, turned heads and helped Elly Jackson become something of a talking point. But musically, the homage to Depeche Mode and everything that inspired Depeche Mode, is in the form of a sharp, bold debut album that should be so much more of a talking point than an avant-grade hairstyle.  If, when time passes, the thick, single curl is more of a conversation starter than this self-titled debut album, you’ll know it could have been better.

But when the first six tracks of an album, a debut album even, are all potential number 1 singles, you have to take notice. ‘La Roux’ is a record company’s goldmine, something that completely eradicates any anti-pop stance Jackson seems to take in her image and attitude. She is decidedly left-field, a odd choice for the country’s new favourite pop star. But ‘In For The Kill’ provoked the kind of “what is that song?!” reaction only the very best of pop music can. That very breakthrough hit sets the agenda for the record, before a more delicate ‘Tigerlily’, a disjointed, quirky pop song in ‘Quicksand’, a now number 1 single in ‘Bulletproof’, the perfect chorus in ‘Colourless Colour’ and the familiarly break-neck 80’s pop sound of ‘I’m Not Your Toy’ all, each and every one of them, meet the high standard set.

Production is the primary colour, the guidance for which Jackson follows. During recording, she was ending a relationship and in a sense you can hear the mixed emotions, the trembling in the varied hushes and tones of her voice, produced so that harmonies emerge from the very same voice. It’s a old pop-production trick, one that cannot be replicated live but here it’s at its finest.

It would be ignorant, foolish to dismiss this album on merit of you becoming tired of the electro-pop sound. Passion Pit drove it to its tether, its breaking point in ‘Manners’, to the point by which we were choking on the processed synthetics. But somehow, ‘La Roux’ is as human as any exposed country performer, with only acoustic guitar to boast. And you begin to wonder whether that’s merely due to the vocals. Jackson is not a talented singer. Nor would she get past the first round on a televised talent show. But her delivery is earnest, acting out the range of emotions rummaging around the record, from triumph in ‘Bulletproof’ to complete and utter defeat in token album ballad ‘Cover My Eyes’. And for that, this record is unique. In ‘Manners’, all you hear is Michael Angelakos’ stirring, discomforting falsetto and no meaning alongside. In ‘Hands’, there’s little more than a half-decent singer with limited idea and even less drive in lyrics and vocals. But Jackson is one of a kind, strangely enough. Lyrics on their own, written on a piece of paper, look basic and even cheap on occasion. When sung, they somehow glow.

Because of the regurgitation of this now “safe” electro sound, you almost seek to dismiss Jackson’s debut. She’s an easy target – on the brink of stardom but also teetering on the edge of being brought back down to Earth. But any dismissal that springs to mind, once thought out, can be defeated. Because when you pay close attention to every sharp jolt of a drum rhythm, every shake in Jackson’s phonetics, you begin to see the album as an unlikely hero, like the woman herself.

8.8

mp3: La Roux – Tigerlily [alt]

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