We've all had a bunch of fun this year with glo-fi and balearic-influenced tunes, sifting through fuzz and hiss and gauzy beats to find our precious pop gems, but occasionally you need a respite from spelunking. What better way to emerge into the light than with unapologetically derivative 80s synth-pop that features hysterically expressive vocals and sharp songwriting? Meet La Roux.
In the UK La Roux is already a household name, boasting #1 and #2 singles to go along with a #2 peak placement for the group's eponymous debut album, which finally gets its U.S. release on September 29. A duo consisting of out-of-the-spotlight co-producer Ben Langmaid and very-front-and-center vocalist Elly Jackson (daughter of famed British TV actress Trudie Goodwin), La Roux delivers icy but irresistible throwback pop that hearkens back explicitly to fellow femme-led Brits Yazoo and the Eurhythmics. As far as contemporary comparisons are concerned, La Roux seems almost to have chosen its moniker as a means to ensure their record store placards would be slotted in the same alphabetical neighborhood as most of their RIYLs-- Little Boots, Lady Gaga, and Ladyhawke are all nearby taxonomically and sonically.
The album starts with "In for the Kill", which besides inspiring an excellent remix from Skream is also pretty emblematic of the record as a whole, as its key elements-- plinky synths, hollow beats, ecstatic vocals-- pop up again and again, particularly on "Quicksand" and "Fascination". Jackson's demonstrative vocals are inevitably going to be a sticking point for some people, but unless you want all your ladies to sound like Lykke Li then hopefully you can stomach La Roux's bountiful affect.
The best thing on here by far is "Bulletproof", a declaration of emotional steeliness containing an utterly irresistible sing-along chorus, and if you could level an instant criticism at the rest of the album it's that it lacks more truly indelible moments like this one. The flip side of the coin is that there isn't a single duffer on the whole record, as each song offers its own spot of fun even if it fails to deliver a hook that demands to be shouted from rooftops. "Tigerlily" features a vaguely creepy, Vincent Price-ish spoken word bit that's just bizarre enough to work, and then seemingly to answer it, "Reflections are Protection" whips out a rubbery, creeping synth line that wouldn't have sounded out of place on Thriller. Jackson and Langmaid even showcase a solid knack for balladry, which accounts for most of the admittedly minor emotional resonance of an album that primarily recycles lyrical themes of spurned, illicit and obsessive love. The pulsing synths, clattery beats and vocal histrionics of "Armour Love" don't stray terribly far from the group's wheelhouse, but "Cover My Eyes" is a real revelation, featuring a chillingly deadened vocal turn from Jackson and a miraculously non-ridiculous assist from the London Community Gospel Choir. It's a promising sign La Roux might actually develop some range as this pilfer-pop duo continues to mature.
