5 new releases we love: Tame Impala outruns doubt, Miranda Lambert gets rowdy, and more
King Princess, Cheap Queen
[Zelig Recordings, October 25]
After building her name on a handful of provocative singles—“1950,” “Pussy Is God”—Mikaela Straus’ King Princess has delivered a debut LP that propels the 20-year-old beyond both her virality and her association with producer Mark Ronson. Cheap Queen isn’t built solely on samples and drum pads—guitars, piano, and live percussion carry tracks like “Homegirl” and “Ain’t Together,” standouts that achieve a powerful intimacy that suits the album’s themes of post-heartbreak navigation. But Straus’ main appeal is her swagger, which compels even as she makes it clear her brashness—“getting too cocky, since everyone wants me”—is born from a place of wounded insecurity. And while songs like “Hit The Back” and “Cheap Queen” flaunt choruses that won’t quit, it’s the rough edges, the surprise snarl in Straus’ vocals, that make the LP such a good hang. [Randall Colburn]
TR/ST, The Destroyer – 2
[Grouch via House Arrest, November 1]
Opening with the subtle swell “Enduring Chill,” TR/ST’s latest offering extends the cold-wave retrospection of last spring’s The Destroyer – 1. Atmospheric and immersive, part two reveals the marrow of Robert Alfons’ romanticism. As the album opener eases into “Iris,” vacillating synth blends seamlessly with brooding backbeats reminiscent of the unhinged yearning of beloved cuts like “This Ready Flesh” and “Rescue, Mister.” As Alfons utters, “Stay, stay, stay,” “Iris” becomes a Lacanian echo, a plea conjured by longing and a willingness to be vulnerable. Similarly, “Cor” blooms on the heels of a satisfyingly corrosive dissonance that becomes the prologue to an intimately dark yet tender melody. Together with the reflective self-awareness of the title track and the hypnotically brooding chords of “Shame,” these latter songs urge listeners to be patient, to feel what isn’t being said through instrumentation and rhythm. Closing with the cinematic hum of “The Strain” and the buzz of “Slow Burn,” Alfons proves that the malleability of desire and the self are tethered, like two links of an inseparable chain. [Dianca London Potts]