Skip to main contentNorthern State
All City
Columbia Records
WHINEY LONG ISLAND WHITE GIRLS RHYME ABOUT IKEA 'N' FEMINISM. SOCCER MOMS, REPRESENT.
Since Northern State was inducted into the hipster hall of fame by the Roots, whose ?uestlove is a guest producer on their latest, All City, the sparse, proto-Beastie Boys vibe of their debut, Dying in Stereo, has been swapped for a slicker yet compelling style ranging from invigorating classical samples to a sort of 'N Sync industrialism (you know you like it). On one hand, Northern State is the grrrl group of earnest young feminist dreams. "Girl for All Seasons," for example, spits fire through impossible beauty standards like a hip-hop Naomi Wolf, at times offering some pretty complex analysis ("Girl, it's a setup and you're meant to fail"). Rhymes that teeter dangerously on that Ani DiFranco line between sincere and embarrassing ("Might as well be Superman/ not a supermodel") are snatched from the clutches of bumper-sticker feminism by dense, creative production. On the other hand, the Stateswymyn sometimes seem to get props simply because they are an oddity--white feminist MCs--rather than because of any mad skill. Monotonic, whiney voices rhyming about Ikea (yes, they do) expose the crew's rough, often grating edges. And lines about how they're "gettin out of this city any way I can/ I'll be a soccer mom in a minivan" serve as a potent reminder of just how far away from typical hip-hop reality their whiteness can take them. Northern State is at its best when deploying serious girl power with an over-the-top acknowledgment of their own privilege and a wily sense of humor. (Rachel Devitt)
Scissor Sisters
Scissor Sisters
Universal Records
FILTHY, GORGEOUS DANCE-HIT MAKERS VALIDATE THE EXISTENCE OF THE BEE GEES.
If David Bowie, Elton John and the Bee-Gees had a baby in the New Wave with fairy godmothers Glam Rock and Disco, that baby would sound like the Scissor Sisters. Because of this striking diversity of influences, the band's self-titled debut is difficult to classify. Songs range from riotous dance tracks to darker cabaret-influenced ballads. The album begins with the funkified glam of "Laura" and "Take Your Mama," both of which recall a refreshed early-era Elton John. But just as you're settling into the Elton, the Sisters move into a falsetto vocals, as if the were doing Floyd in Studio 54. The cover is followed by the piano-rock ballad "Mary" and then a series of songs that are unashamed of their resurrection of disco basslines and synthesizer beats--songs based on the sentiment "I know I shouldn't like it, but, damn it, I can't get enough." The album ends, far too soon, with the powerful "Return to Oz," a somewhat unsettling and masked tale of crystal-meth addiction. No doubt the band is rooted firmly on the dance floor, but instead of being a seasonal novelty act, their songs have a lasting spirit born not only of musical skill and diversity, but also of their unashamed, unironic and infectious love of pop. They're filthy, they're gorgeous, they're hilarious and you can't get their songs out of your head, because somewhere inside we're all a "classy honey kissy huggy lovey dovey ghetto princess." (Aaron Scott)
WWeek 2015