Stone Gods

No one makes music quite like the Roisin Murphy. It's time, thinks Garry Mulholland, that she was granted more acclaim
5 out of 5

* Garry Mulholland
*
* Sunday October 14 2007

Irish chanteuse Roisin Murphy is a singular presence in 21st-century pop. Unlike your stereotypical, ultra-focused, career-obsessed modern young pop wannabe, Ms Murphy didn't particularly wanna be at all. The Wicklow-born and Manchester-raised singer hadn't sung a note when, at the age of 18, she approached a bloke she liked the look of at a Sheffield club and asked him, 'Do you like my tight sweater?' A pretty great chat-up line, all told; good enough to get her the guy (dance producer Mark Brydon), make her the lead singer of a twisted dance-pop duo called Moloko, and serve as the title of the pair's 1995 debut album. Roisin Murphy fell in love and fell into pop purely by chance. The more you fall into the lush dance-pop swirlings of this, Murphy's second solo album, the more you feel that it was pop's lucky day.

Overpowered, a sumptuous 11-track, all-killer-no-filler, electro-disco gem sees Murphy striving to get rid of her Big Hit Albatross. 'Sing it Back', you may recall, was the ubiquitous mainstream club anthem of 1999, which would have been all roses and kittens for Murphy and Brydon if it hadn't been a remix that didn't really sound like the rest of Moloko's more trippy, art-funk oeuvre.

But Roisin was always far closer in spirit to Bjork than Kylie. After a personal and professional split with Brydon, she chose to work with visionary art-jazz producer Matthew Herbert for her first solo album, 2005's Ruby Blue, on the kind of ambitious avant-pop hybrid that gets Bjork rapturous acclaim, but only got Murphy... well, a deal with EMI, at least, who thankfully recognised a genuine maverick when they heard one.

Inspired by the Eighties proto-house of D Train, Mantronix and Gwen Guthrie, but often sounding a dead-ringer for Yazoo, early Eurythmics and rave-era dance-popsters Electribe 101, Overpowered's bubbling, sensual, and soulful glitterball gems effortlessly tap into the perennial glory of feeling lost and lonely at the disco at the end of the world. If it feels like Murphy is singing about, and to, Mark Brydon on the likes of 'You Know Me Better' and 'Movie Star', then the deep beats, lush synths and subtle horns and strings provided by male producers/co-writers including Jimmy Douglass, Groove Armada's Andy Cato and Richard X work overtime to establish Murphy as sole captain of her own swish and swoony destiny.

As closing ballad 'Scarlet Ribbons' wends its gently reggae-fied way to the sweetest of endings, you realise that you've just been dreamily immersed in the best grown-up dance-pop album since Madonna's Ray of Light. Yep - that good. I hope Ireland doesn't get too offended if Britain comes to its senses and recognises Roisin Murphy as a National Treasure.

Download: 'Overpowered'; 'Tell Everybody'; 'Scarlet Ribbons'; 'Let Me Know' - The Observer (UK)

Overpowered
Roísín Murphy:
Overpowered
[EMI; 2007]
Rating: 8.0



Roísín Murphy casts a wide net: Avant-pop aesthetes fell for Moloko's screwball trip-hop; Ibizan disco bunnies made "Sing It Back" a pop anthem; nightcrawlers found a postergirl in the booze-hound sleeve of Statues; style-mag fantasists never tire of her covers. Even Sky Sports succumbed, making "The Time Is Now" the unofficial anthem of 21st century soccer.

So why isn't she a huge star? It's a question that has likely been taxing the minds of EMI, who, to their credit, have taken a punt on Murphy after her 2005 solo debut tanked. Recorded with tech-jazz savant Matthew Herbert, Ruby Blue was a brilliantly inventive collection of cut-up pop that confounded her label and failed to find an audience. According to her new bosses, Murphy has got all that self-indulgence out of her system, and is now stepping up to the plate to make a "career record." She has the potential, they claim, to be a kind of beloved entertainer on the level of another investment of theirs, Robbie Williams.

In truth, Murphy is closer in spirit to the late Associates singer Billy Mackenzie, another maverick celtic diva torn between the arthouse, the punk club, and the disco. Mackenzie could never quite knuckle down to the career frequently promised him; one suspects Murphy won't fare any better. Her position is perfectly illustrated in Scott King's artwork for the album and singles, setting Murphy on the streets of east London, having evidently just beamed down from the planet Gaultier-- a pop peacock out of place and time in the mundane Kate Nash-ville of British pop 2007.

The record itself finds Murphy on her best behaviour, however-- wearing its natural wildness and eccentricity lightly, Overpowered is focused solely on the dancefloor. Her collaborators, from Bugz in the Attic and Groove Armada, have constructed a gleaming shrine to the spirit of Bobby O and Giorgio Moroder: The lead single and title track borrows a primordial bassline squelch from the dawn of cosmic disco-- La Bionda's "I Wanna Be Your Lover"-- and the follow-up, "Let Me Know", shamelessly plunders the chorus of Tracy Weber's 1981 classic "Sure Shot".

Murphy is the singer that the mid-00s British nu-pop of Richard X and Xenomania has so dearly missed: A dramatic yet unshowy singer, versatile enough to take in the regal hauteur of "Primitive", the cerebral chill of "Dear Miami", the randy glee of "Footprints", the chutzpah and grace of "You Know Me Better". She's funny, clever, heartbreaking, and strident, the kind of disco singer Dusty Springfield never quite had the abandon to become. At times, however, she's almost too willing to play it straight. "Movie Star" laces itself a little too tighly into Alison Goldfrapp's glam pop corset, while "Cry Baby" is stuffed to the gills with syndrums and cowhorns to the exclusion of much else. And the dubby song for her dad, "Scarlet Ribbons", is sweet but feels a little out of place. But these are quibbles. In a year of low-stakes disappointment for European pop, Overpowered is a triumph.


- Stephen Troussé, October 18, 2007
- Pitchfork