Up until now, Kristin Welchez was most commonly known as Dee Dee Penny, the alter-ego she adopted to front garage band Dum Dum Girls, who formed in 2008 amidst an ongoing revival of '60s-inspired, wall-of-sound rock groups. While embodying Dee Dee, Welchez's cool was effortless, as all cool should be; she could have been born with crimson lipstick and a glossy pair of Ray-Bans sitting perfectly parallel to her incredible black bangs. Now, she has re-reinvented herself as Kristin Kontrol, and her first solo record *X-Communicate *is a total 180 from her work with DDG, eschewing guitar music for the sleekest synthpop imaginable.
Saying that X-Communicate only takes its strongest moments from '80s pop would be pigeonholing, but it's undeniable that shades of that decade permeate the record from start to finish. The chorus to “Skin Shed” could almost be a lost Kylie Minogue classic, even down to Welchez's vocal delivery, and the backing harmonies on tracks like “Drive the Night” are straight out of Go-Go's/Bangles/Bananarama territory. If Kristin Kontrol ever does truly hit the mainstream, it could be with “What Is Love,” a song that makes use of the trickiest and most show-stopping of '80s songwriting staples—the power ballad—to tremendous effect. Every single moment is accounted for and brought to completion, from the simple piano melodies of the song's beginning to the stadium-anthem finish.
Luckily, X-Communicate avoids superficiality and mimicry by also adding liberal doses of '70s rock and '90s indie and alt-rock, like on “Face 2 Face,” a mid-tempo number that would have easily fit into 120 Minutes rotation circa '96. There are even tinges of contemporary pop where necessary (the saxophones on the impeccable “White Street” could conceivably be described as “Jepsen-esque”). Other than Welchez, there are two notable creative forces behind X-Communicate: producers Kurt Feldman (who fronts synth band Ice Choir and used to be a member of both the Depreciation Guild and The Pains of Being Pure at Heart) and Andrew Miller, who was the Dum Dum Girls' final guitarist. The pair's extensive knowledge of pop production is an instrument in itself, and one that, along with Welchez's well-honed songwriting, lifts X-Communicate far beyond mere revivalism.
The album's title track is the culmination of all these elements, a polished four minutes full of bleating keyboards and driving drum machines that conjure a midnight drive through L.A. It does what pop songs do best: Take a moment and blow it up to its largest possible size for all to enjoy. In any genre, it’s a difficult task to make music for an informed audience that is both referential without being derivative, exciting without cloyness. Yes, X-Communicate could be a better record: It could reach further beyond the sound that defines it; it could work harder to analyze and skewer some of the tropes that end up supporting it. However, sticking the landing on a musical pivot this total is an impressive feat, and ultimately, the album’s minor shortcomings become admissible next to its higher moments. The clear ambition of X-Communicate is to leave Welchez’s old persona behind and emerge, fresh and new, as something completely different, and by and large, that objective is achieved.
