St. Vincent – All Born Screaming
Annie Clark still has surprises to offer on St. Vincent's seventh album, the enigmatic and experimental All Born Screaming
Grit and glamour meet poetic allure on the seventh album from St. Vincent, the musical moniker of Annie Clark. Clark’s art pop stylings have seen her artistry shapeshift into different forms across her career. In recent years, she hasn’t played with themes as much as she has immersed herself headfirst into them: from the 1970s downtown NYC anti-hero of 2021’s Daddy’s Home, complete with blonde wig, to the latex-laden dominatrix of 2017’s Masseduction, teeming with the energy of late-night afterparties.
On All Born Screaming, Clark’s approach is less character driven, opting to channel experimentation in the vein of her earlier works (St. Vincent; Strange Mercy). Her first entirely self-produced record, Clark’s production sees her paring back to core elements, every small detail magnified: the echoing piano tones of Reckless; Clark’s signature guitar tones reverberating through the dreamlike The Power’s Out. The spectacles too are made more extreme – 'What are you looking at?', Clark snarls at the apotheosis of Broken Man with braggadocious swagger, distorted guitar riffs punctuated with screeching horns filling up the space.
But there’s many ways to scream, and elsewhere the wailing vocal of standout track Violent Times could be read as the twin of Masseduction’s Young Lover. Where the earlier track narrated a lover begging in anguished desperation to avoid loss, here Clark’s narration speculates the futility of 'Chasing mortality / When in the ashes of Pompeii / Lovers discovered in an embrace / For all eternity'. This acceptance of beauty blooming amidst tragedy is interwoven throughout All Born Screaming. Sweetest Fruit, an ode to quelling self-doubt, opens with a tribute to the late innovative producer SOPHIE, with Clark previously stating in an interview with Attitude: "This idea that she was just trying to get a better look at the moon. That moved me". It’s a uniquely beautiful ode.
The poeticism of her lyricism is paired at times with a wry humour as Clark channels everything from a 'kingsize killer' (Broken Man) to a 'hungry little flea' (Flea). Likewise, there’s a subtle humour to be found in the closing tracks: where we may have led us to conclude an end pummelled by screaming guitar, Clark opts for a more sanguine approach. 'We’re all born screaming / Well, well, well', she reminisces to reggae toned melodies on the closer title track, a step removed from the flame. It’s testament to Clark’s self-assured and enigmatic oeuvre: indeed, she still holds surprises for us yet.
Listen to: Violent Times, Flea, Sweetest Fruit