Annie Clark’s fourth alt-pop album, St. Vincent, is otherworldly, sprawling over a space never heard before, its songs driven by ethereal combinations of Clark’s flighty voice and powerful shredding guitar solos with pounding beats behind them.
“Rattlesnake” is the first of these, sparse and paranoid, where Clark asks “Am I the only one in the only world?” like a twisted creation myth. The album sounds as if Clark, as her St. Vincent persona, is taking us on a trip around the cosmos.
Clark wrote this album, it seems, while panicking over the computerized world. No song captures this more than “Digital Witness,” a jumpy look at oversharing. “People turn the TV on/it looks just like a window,” Clark croons, worrying over being trapped in an endless cycle of technology.
Another key track is “I Prefer Your Love,” a synth-pop slow dance. Clark sounds like she’s confessing on this track. She treats the song with decorum.
St. Vincent is Clark’s best album to date, the result of years of exploring music. Her earlier works, Marry Me (2007), Actor (2009), and Strange Mercy (2011), all garnered praise from critics. In 2012, Clark collaborated with veteran musician David Byrne on Love This Giant. All of her work has garnered praise from critics, but St. Vincent is the first to truly break into pop culture.
Clark has always shown her dark side with music. Through even her liveliest chords, she maintains an almost grotesque quality in her lyrics. Monsters, age, sadness, regret, and even death are common topics for her. Clark has said she intended to produce St. Vincent as “a party record you could play at a funeral.” Her new album fits that description.
St. Vincent is beautifully produced, backed by Clark’s impressive mastery of the guitar and her dynamic voice. This feels and sounds like her best work yet and will definitely be on the charts this spring.
