Grimes Maintains Outsider Ethos But Yields to Mainstream Pull on 'Art Angels': Album Review

Album Review

You could write a fascinating alternate history of music by following the progressions of weirdos and outsiders who, after a few albums, yielded to the gravitational pull of mainstream music: the Velvet Underground, Yoko Ono, the Tubes, Genesis, Talking Heads, Scritti Politti, Simple Minds, Liz Phair, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and, more recently, tUnE-yArDs and Marina and the Diamonds. As Art Angels confirms, Grimes, the alter ego of Claire Boucher, is heiress to this tradition, with a few crucial differences. 

If you hear the lyrics as personal, Boucher, 27, expresses wariness in these songs: “When you get bored of me, I’ll be back on the shelf,” she sings melancholically over a clapping, Double Dutch beat in “California,” the state where this Canadian musician and producer relocated in the run-up to her fourth album. More likely, she’s feinting: She co-wrote a song last year for Rihanna (who rejected it), which no writer who’s afraid of the mainstream would do. And fans know Boucher regards her tracks as character exercises. She wrote Art Angels’ debauched “Kill V. Maim” from the perspective of Al Pacino in The Godfather Part II, “except he’s a vampire who can switch gender and travel through space,” she told Q magazine. Oh, okay. There’s nothing to indicate this in the song, except for the machine-gun joy she takes in howling “I’m a mobster” and “You declared a state of war!” -- a satire, maybe, of machismo and its attachment to threats and violence. 

Grimes Revs Up for 'Art Angels' Release With Spellbinding Double Music Video: Watch

Art Angels is a marvel of meticulous, even obsessive home-studio recording, uncompromised by bandmates or collaborators. Boucher produced it and made the record herself, save for two vocal features: Aristophanes, a Taiwanese rapper she spotted on SoundCloud, and R&B futurist Janelle Monáe. In the sparkling “Flesh without Blood,” a celebratory kiss-off with twangy guitars, Boucher uses drums as counterpoint, restlessly disrupting the beat with bangs, claps and smacks. She plays guitar, keyboards, and violin, but her virtuoso instrument is Ableton software, which lets Boucher, a fan of studio experimenters from Phil Spector to Aphex Twin, chop, distort, and transpose natural and unnatural sounds. 

Throughout Art Angels, she equates love with derangement and disappointment: “Your love kept me alive and made me insane,” she sings in “Realiti,” italicizing the lyric by switching from her usual light and airy voice to something more nasal and choked. She punctuates other tracks with images of blood, destruction, death and defeat. Even though top 40 radio has gotten much weirder recently, as the The Weeknd or Major Lazer’s oddball “Lean On” proves, Grimes’ album probably doesn’t have a career-catapulting single, akin to Talking Heads’ “Burning Down the House” or the Tubes’ “She’s a Beauty.” Radio likes a vocal to be shockingly clear and loud in the mix, but Boucher prefers to hide and distort her voice, which is her least impressive, most commonplace tool. 

Grimes Shares Cover From 'Bro-Art'-Inspired 'Art Angels' Album

Boucher directs her own videos, paints her album covers, exhibits drawings, curates a great Tumblr, and gives hilarious and nuanced interviews. Even discounting for the tendency of Americans to perceive Canadians as intellectually superior (Marshall McLuhan was a Canuck, but so were Bachman-Turner Overdrive), she’s a canny, self-aware performer. Grimes is an art project at risk of going mainstream, and Boucher knows it. She closes Art Angels with “Butterfly.” Boucher starts the beat, then briefly halts it. The lyrics seem to be about deciding to speak up, in addition to environmental damage. After an album that’s so happily angry, it’s soothing to float above nature. Butterfly is also the name of an out-of-the-cocoon album by Mariah Carey, whom Boucher loves, unironically, and the song feels like a coy, coquettish come-on from a pop star putting herself up for sale, especially when she repeats the sibilant line “Sweeter than a sugarcane.” But the last sound on the album is Boucher, softly vowing, “I’ll never be your dream girl.” Everything she is, she also isn’t.

This story will appear in the Nov. 21 issue of Billboard.


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