Alison Goldfrapp – Flux
On Flux, Alison Goldfrapp proves that the 'difficult second album' strikes even veteran industry icons, as solo outing number two floats in an elegant yet directionless orbit
While undeniably a step forward in Alison Goldfrapp's tentative solo debut, Flux remains distant from the heights scaled alongside Will Gregory as Goldfrapp. Despite impeccable craftsmanship provided by the likes of Richard X, Flux frequently feels mired in its own lushness, burdened by a strange inertia. The mid-tempo monotony accentuates this lethargy, diluting shimmering beauty into something laboured rather than effortless. Goldfrapp’s vocals too often sit groggily atop the mix like lactoderm, hampering the livelier textures beneath. Reverberotic, here, is the thumping and brilliant exception that proves the rule, all nonsenical portmanteau, unearned zaniness ('Lunar goo / I want to bathe in you') and a pre-chorus that stands as the best toplining on the whole project.
The record finds terminal lucidity in tracks that puncture the malaise: Play It (Shine Like a Nova Star) crackles to life with a bouncing, light house rhythm, while Cinnamon Light offers a fizzy, candy-coated sweetness reminiscent of MUNA’s joyful hooks; moments that relieve the listener that the entire exercise hasn't been perfunctory to create. Ultimately, Flux is an elegant yet frustrating album: meticulously shaped, impeccably polished yet feeling distinctly like the product of conceptual indifference at best.
Listen to: Reverberotic, Play It (Shine Like a Nova Star), Cinnamon Light