Caroline Rose
Superstar
Indie Pop
Obsession. It is rare to find something so totally pure as a perfect pop album, but when you do, it's impact on every aspect of your auditory life cannot be overstated. It...consumes you.
Such is the effect of Caroline Rose's newest, Superstar. After reinventing herself as a pop songwriter with her previous album, Loner, this effort is another adventure entirely. I have mined every song for every sound for days, distracted by nothing in my quest to understand its genius, but the rich ore has not stopped producing.
It might be hyperbole to say this is a once-in-a-lifetime find, but it feels that potent right now. It has taken me days to even think of the words necessary to describe Superstar, much less actually write them coherently. My first experience was more like tears of joy and incoherent babbling, like in movies when friendly aliens telepathically impart all the knowledge of the universe to the protagonist.
That's a fabrication. That's actually how I experience Superstar now. When I first heard it, I thought, "wow, this is some pretty catchy stuff," then moved on to other albums, trying to catch up on my ever-expanding backlog. But as the albums and hours went by, like the world's lamest addict, I began to think about listening to it again. It slowly became my only thought.
When I did, it was a psychic mistake, as sating the thirst meant grabbing the tail of the dragon, never to be released. The grandiose synths swathed in neon-like production, Rose's sumptuous alto voice peppered with occasional falsetto; the combination is soothing and exciting, like a caffeinated lip balm.
"Nothing's Impossible" is the perfect thesis statement to the album, with its stuttering beat, faint maraca, and a stabbing synth pattern pulled from Empire of the Sun's catalog. And that it devolves into a bass-driven 80s lounge song for the last 30 seconds is certainly to be commended.
"Do You Think We'll Last Forever?" is a monolith of everything going right with pop right now: a funk bass line, coolly and wryly delivered vocals and an Olivia-Newton-John-style chorus. It also turns at the end, if only for a brief moment, to a Distillers/Brody Dalle rock anthem, which explodes at the finish line.
Lead single "Feel the Way I Want" hearkens back to blissful 90s glam pop so that you can imagine it playing in gymnasiums and roller rinks worldwide (remember roller rinks?). It is also the most inspiring song on the album, eschewing darker themes for a positively light message of personal acceptance.
"Freak Like Me" turns what would be a beautiful piano ballad on its head, with the baby grand hook playing far in the distance as Rose croons about her unhealthy relationship with a dominatrix. It's the kind of twisted sordidness that sneaks up on you, like Snow White's poison apple, so tempting and so vile.
"Someone New," a personal favorite, combines the quirkiness of a St. Vincent single with the textures of the Alan Parsons Project: wall-of-sound synths mix with highly affected guitars for a unique form of pop-dance that is just divine.
The grunge-inspired "Pipe Dreams" could easily be the slow song on a Soundgarden album if they had Victoria Legrand singing (that's my second Beach House reference this week, they're just so universal) and a LOT more xylophones and chimes.
"Back at the Beginning" is more modern, with its falling whistle sample and glistening keys. The explosive chorus also brings a more club-like feel to what would otherwise be a techno Queens of the Stone Age song.
Finale "I Took A Ride" begins as a simple ballad, but beautifully descends into a din of electronic beats and propulsive croon as Rose clamors that "I'll get my baby back, someday soon." It is a truly gorgeous end to a ravishing experience.
While my consumption may be total, I still continue to listen, questing, searching, for...something. No one listen is good enough, I need another. Perhaps it's from drought, a thirst brought on by a dearth of gleaming pop music as statuesque and perfect as this. Should we be asking more of our 4/4 radio hits? Perhaps...I simply cannot stop. Obsession.
