When your music leans on the power of your youth, it's impossible to age gracefully without undergoing a reinvention. When Glasgow's Bis laid down their "Teen-C Revolution" manifesto in the mid-1990s, a vague but confrontational screed against fascists, homophobes, and adults, they put an expiration date on their band. But if their lyrics hadn't made it explicit, their music-- a mix of playground taunts, synths, and guitars-- would have spoken the same manifesto. You can trace a crayon line from Bis to young, shouting, dancing bands like the Gossip and Los Campesinos!. And so, a decade and a half years later, and on her first solo record, Bis singer and keyboard player Amanda MacKinnon (still using her Bis stage name Manda Rin) finds herself trying to catch up to bands that were, no doubt, influenced by Bis. She experiments with variations on the bright, kandy pop that Bis perfected and finds a more nuanced form of rebellion, but she can't find the reinvention she needs.
Shedding the shackles of Bis probably sounds ridiculous when most Americans have probably never heard of the band. In America the band are best known for writing the end credits song to "The Powerpuff Girls". But in 1996, the band played "Top of the Pops" before they even had a record deal-- the first group ever to do so. They released three albums and numerous EPs on the Beastie Boys' Grand Royal label here and the Delgados' Chemikal Underground imprint in Europe-- and sold 100,000 copies of their debut album in Japan.
Straight off, it's easier to see her connections to Bis rather than her defection. MacKinnon is in cartoon form on My DNA' s cover, just as she was on many of Bis' EPs. But it shows her staring solemnly into a mirror at her real reflection, still wearing her trademark hair barrettes, but definitely looking more mature. On "Tell It to the Kids" Bis bragged that Manda Rin used her "childlike appearance" as a weapon-the My DNA cover shows her older and a bit defenseless.
My DNA tries on different variations of dance pop: disco, electro, even glassy Scandinavian dance. Sometimes these songs work: The title track's laserbeam keyboards and rubbery bassline are brash and fun enough to make up for Manda Rin's more subdued vocals. She's less relenting on "The Word Out", where her chants ("Did you ever write the perfect song/ Did you ever say sorry to who you should") serve as cheerleaders for the song's ripsaw guitars. Manda Rin reaches for icy pop princess sheen on "Love to Hate You". Her voice can't support the tension. It aims for delicate but comes off thin. While the new tonal and rhythmic palette betrays desire to branch out, the results show more courage, but less confidence than her material with Bis.
Bis were never subtle, but MacKinnon wants more nuance and less shouting on My DNA . She takes issue with issues like body acceptance ("Less Than Zero"), abuse ("Bruises") and relationships ("Break-Up/Breakdown"). But lines like "Boys say go/ Girls say no" ("Guilty Pleasure") are too flat to make their point. For an album about being comfortable with yourself, My DNA is still not sure what it should be.
