Clare Maguire - Light After Dark

Released: February 25, 2011

Purchased: Early 2012 I think, from Amazon.

First Thoughts: This isn't exactly filled with the pop bops I normally go for, so that tells you how excellent it is, that it's my second-favorite album in the world. I guess the closest comparison I can make is Florence, but less rock and more generally subdued. Her voice is just wonderful. I'm looking forward to this.

Playthrough:

Are You Ready? - Pointless like 90% of album intros.

Shield and Sword - This was what got me into Clare. It is a monster of a song - very Kate Bush in some ways, but with that Cher/Moyet-ish voice. I remember totally connecting it to The Hunger Games, which I was reading at the time. It really isn't a great metaphor, but I don't care because this is an amazing song.

Last Dance - One of the more "pop" moments on here. It's not intended to be romantic - it was inspired by the deaths of Clare's grandpa and Michael Jackson - but it's definitely easy to read it as a "friends to lovers" song, and you know I'll never say no to that. The orchestral backing track is a huge plus too.

Freedom - Not one of my favorites. I don't remember if this or Bullet is the one on the album she didn't co-write, but I think it's this one, and it does kind of stick out. It's just not as developed as the rest.

I Surrender - Definitely the most "pop" song on the album. It's very bright and shiny - think Taylor Swift's Treacherous or State of Grace crossed with Tegan and Sara's Heartthrob album. Even though it's not as blissful in its production as I always remember it being, it still comes across as euphoric, though that may be because of the contrast with the rest of the album!

Bullet - This is another very Kate Bush-like song, but it sounds so much better than most of Kate's songs thanks to Clare's endlessly pleasant voice and the modern production. "You shot that bullet through myyyy heaaaaaaaaaarrrrrt" is definitely the album's best display of Clare's vocal abilities.

The Happiest Pretenders - I remember her saying she wrote this to be a song that children could dance to on the playground or something, which is frankly bizarre, because I cannot imagine children really engaging with this song (or indeed most of the album). But it's a lovely song about the gap between fantasy and reality, always one of my favorite topics for a song.

Sweet Lie - I always kind of remember this as being better than it is, probably because the chorus is so much more compelling than the verses. Listening to it now, it actually comes across as kind of fillery, but still truer to the album than Freedom.

Break These Chains - Also quite fillery actually, though I know at times when I've played the album I've loved it. Guess I'm just not in the mood.

You're Electric - This isn't even one of my favorites on the album, but from the instant that intro kicks in, it always grabs me, and doesn't let go until it's over. I totally understand why it was the first single. The auto-tune at the end is so tasteful and a great example of how to use it to enhance a song to great effect. Everything about this song is so BIG.

Ain't Nobody - One of the least special songs on the album, and you can definitely tell it was from earlier on while she was still figuring out her sound. But it's still a very good listen. The chorus is great, as is "you were my desire, yeah, you were my escape."

Light After Dark - I need this to be used as the ending song of a movie, with the screen going black and the credits rolling just as the second verse starts. It's so dramatic, and the lyrics are wonderful and comforting.

This Is Not the End - Feels very much like the album closer. Really lovely and seems like a companion piece to Last Dance.

Final verdict: I'm actually confused right now because this really didn't do it for me tonight like I'd expect my second-favorite album to do. Right now I'd probably give it a 7, but when I've listened to it before it's been a solid 10. Maybe it's just an off night. Too bad they didn't include Lucky (free fan club download), though - that's another amazing song that would have fit in really well.

Highlight: Close call with Shield and Sword, but I think Last Dance is the one I come back to more often. Beautiful video too.

Everything But the Girl - Walking Wounded

Released: May 21, 1996

Purchased: With a Christmas gift card to Borders in middle school.

First Thoughts: This was the album that really introduced me to electronic music beyond commercial dance. I'd never heard of drum'n'bass, let alone heard it, but I loved what I heard on this album. I still know a lot of it by heart.

Playthrough:

Before Today - This song is so bold and unabashed in asking for what the speaker needs. "I don't want your history. I don't want that stuff. I want you to shut your mouth - that would be enough. And I don't care if you've been here before, you don't understand." I love how totally not-coy it is. Love is hard. Relationships are hard. And this doesn't candy-coat it. It feels so real, especially in the light of how much time I spent trying to coy my way out of the very real problems in my relationship.

Wrong - This feels a little like they were chasing a hit. It's obviously modeled on the Todd Terry mix of Missing. But I kind of don't care, because the melodies and production are good, and the lyrics are again amazing. Their fans like to point to their album Idlewild as the peak of their lyrical honesty, but I think this album surpasses it. (Never been a big fan of Idlewild anyway.) I love that it's again unapologetic for chasing what you need - "I wanted everything for a little while. Why shouldn't I? I wanted to know what love was like" - while still admitting imperfection.

Single - I don't think this has ever really been one of my favorites. I definitely don't get why it was a single (hilariously). The lyrics are again incredible ("I haven't dialed this code before" always gets me for some reason, and I love the simplicity of the chorus, which totally boiled down what I felt for so long after my breakup). But musically it feels kind of half-baked.

The Heart Remains a Child - This on the other hand SHOULD have been a single. I've always loved it. I'll even forgive the non-chorus because the verses are so memorable. It's the album's most "pop" moment, and I'm not going to quit saying this, the lyrics are amazing. "Do I wanna hear that you forgive me? Do I wanna hear you're no good without me? And am I big enough to hear that you never even think about me? Why should you ever think about me?" has stuck with me from day fucking one. And "years may go by, and the mind may grow wise, but I think the heart remains a child" is the story of my life. And many other people's, I expect.

Walking Wounded - I really liked this at the time, but it doesn't do as much for me now. It's still good, but not world-changing. Also, the lyrics are a little too abstract for me to appreciate them as well.

Flipside - I used to HATE this. Then I liked it, and now I don't hate it, but I don't like it very much. Eminently skippable and a huge step down from the first five songs.

Big Deal - Yeah, I surprisingly don't really feel this one either. I love the lyrics in an entertaining way (especially the inner child bit), but they aren't really grabbing me like the first five songs. Maybe just because I haven't lived them like I have the others.

Mirrorball - Oh, God. I have always loved this song so much, because it's a beautiful song. Over the past few years, I've also come to adore the lyrics - "You never knew the teenage me, and you wouldn't believe the things you didn't see, some pretty, some ugly" hits hard for me, and overall I think it just has the best, most honest, most poetic lyrics on the album, which is saying a lot. But in the past few months, I've come to realize it's the story of my life. It's really quite jarring to realize that it's always been there in the background while I ended up living it out. Though I haven't murdered anyone or joined a band.

Good Cop, Bad Cop - Ohhhhh, man. I reached for this when my (then untreated, undiagnosed) depression worsened at age 13. "It's wrong to feel this way, I know it's wrong, I know it's bad, to only see what isn't there, to want and want and never have" was exactly what I felt then, and still what I feel now. It's especially effective as part of the one-two punch with Mirrorball. I am assuming Tracey's struggled with mental illness somehow, because I don't know how anyone who hadn't could write these lyrics. By the same token, I would guess that someone neurotypical wouldn't connect with it, but I think anyone with depression or a similar illness would immediately take it to heart.

Wrong (Todd Terry Remix) - This really doesn't sound much different from the original, which I guess goes to show you just how much they modeled it on Todd's sound. I get that it's a bonus track (when "bonus track" actually had meaning), but it doesn't add anything to the album.

Walking Wounded (Omni Trio Remix) - At least this one is different from the original, so it has a reason to be here, but honestly it's just not very good.

Final verdict: This is actually more uneven than I remembered, thanks largely to that big quality dip of Flipside and Big Deal. But when it's good, it is honestly incredible. Although it's drum'n'bass, it feels very much like an E•MO•TION/The Desired Effect-type synthpop album in terms of both style and substance. I think it'll always hold a special place in my heart. 8.5/10.

Highlight: It's tempting to say The Heart Remains a Child, but really, in terms of how much I've played it, and how much I value it, it has to be Mirrorball.

Song commentary: Madonna - Nothing Fails

I always associate Nothing Fails with Thanksgiving of 2010. Normally for Thanksgiving we went to my grandma's house, but by that time my mom was too ill to make the trip (only two and a half hours each way, but just getting in the car was a struggle for her), so that year we stayed home. I was just on the brink of getting into Madonna, and listening to samples on iTunes on my phone. I distinctly remember pulling up the Jason Nevins mix of Nothing Fails as I was standing on the stairs, about to go set up my computer to record Kylie in the Macy's parade. And though I was expecting to hear a pop bop, based on his Slayline and Clarko remixes, instead I got this rocky mix with Madge singing, "When I get lost in space I can return to this place, 'cause you're the one. Nothing fails, no more fears. Nothing fails, you've washed away my tears." It was so totally in keeping with what I was feeling, and what I needed to hear affirmed, at the time.

As I said, my mom died only a few weeks later, a week before Christmas. Nothing Fails was really the song that kept me going through all my grieving, and though Intervention is now my go-to Madonna song when I need encouragement, Nothing Fails still runs through my head sometimes. It's funny, because as I've discussed before, I grew up extremely religious, which was totally because of my mom. But now I haven't been to church in years, except for Christmas, and a couple times I went with my extended family, in both cases doing it just for the social bond. Yet when I was near suicidal a couple weeks ago, my impulse was to go to a church and pray. So "I'm not religious, but I feel so moved, makes me wanna pray, pray you'll always be here" is spot on for me, giving me that link between my present and my past, and the loss of my mom.

Then there's the first verse. About a year after losing my mom, I was head over heels in love with one of my best friends, who didn't feel the same way - and for a long time didn't even notice. "I'm in love with you, you silly thing, anyone can see" was so accurate, and I remember recalling it frequently as I walked around campus, trying to put her out of my head. It's kind of disconnected from the rest of the song, but it's important to me, albeit for a totally different reason.

So that's why I love Nothing Fails so much. It has a stronger musicality than most of the American Life album (much as I adore it), and fantastic lyrics. It really is one of Madonna's finest songs.

Originally posted to Popjustice on October 28, 2015.

Song commentary: Madonna - Intervention

For a long time, I considered Nothing Fails my favorite Madonna song. But as I was doing my scores for the Madonna rate, I realized that for as much as Nothing Fails has meant to me, Intervention has passed it.

The first Madonna CD I ever bought was True Blue, in December (maybe late November?) of 2010. Only a couple of weeks later, my mom went to the hospital after my dad and I couldn't wake her from her sleep of over 20 hours. And five days after that, she died, nearly two years after being diagnosed with cancer.

Now, growing up I was forbidden to listen to Madonna because she was too sexed-up - my mom was a very hard-line Catholic who thought everything from wearing a crop top to driving a gas guzzler was a sin. (My dad was a horrible hypocrite who confiscated my Kathy Reichs books for having sex scenes and F-bombs while he was hiding a porn addiction.) And so it was in the back of the superstitious part of my mind that maybe Madonna really was a horrible person, and by listening to her I'd somehow hastened my mom's death. But I remember going into the hospital that first day with I'll Remember running through my head (I'd bought Something to Remember by that time too). So I'd already begun to associate Madonna with comfort and grieving.

And she kind of gave me something to live for through the next several months - I had to cope with my mom's death, my first year of college, and a lot of other shit too, and having someone new to stan for was a welcome distraction.

Among that "other shit" was that when my mom died, the buffer she created for me disappeared, and my dad became emotionally abusive. He also decided to sell our house, the only house I could remember living in, which was also the house my mom and her siblings had grown up in. Add in that my mental disorders (depression, social anxiety, generalized anxiety, OCD, avoidant personality disorder, and borderline tendencies) were as yet undiagnosed and untreated, and you see... I was in a very painful, deeply unhappy period of my life.

And in the midst of that, the American Life album. It quickly became one of the three central albums of my life, the other two being Shakespears Sister's Hormonally Yours and Jenny Berggren's My Story. And though I still love the other two, they've lost some of their meaning for me, but American Life hasn't - it's still huge for me. No wonder it's my highest-rated album in any PJ rate. But anyway, at the time, I remember reading Crescent by Diana Abu-Jaber, my assignment for my Literature of American Minorities course, and listening to My Story followed by American Life, and falling apart crying, because all of it was hitting home for me so hard.

The thing I found with the album was that no matter why I was upset - abuse, grieving, depression, career anxiety, academic stress - it had something to say to me. So I got in the habit of putting it on whenever I was having a hard time. For obvious reasons, the Nothing Fails / Intervention / X-Static Process trilogy struck a chord for me, big-time. For a long time, Nothing Fails was the big one for me, for reasons I'll explain when the time comes. But over the years, Intervention has overtaken it, I think because it's an even more universal message, and one that's really beautiful and powerful in its simplicity.

Right now, I'm going through an incredibly painful breakup - one that I hoped and thought I would never have to go through - and I originally turned to Love Spent as an expression of my anger, but now I'm listening to Intervention and crying at the lyrics. "I know the road seems lonely, but that's just Satan's game"... what a powerful sentiment, especially now as I struggle with being single again, but it's one that's empowered me for a long time. Because of my SA and AvPD, and to a lesser extent my BPD, I have a tremendously difficult time making friends and forming relationships and spent - still spend - a great deal of time feeling friendless and wondering what's wrong with me. That lyric has been a great comfort to me, a reminder that sometimes love is hidden, not absent, and that even when it's not enough, better love may be coming up for me, further down that road.

Intervention has given me so much comfort over the years, and at times it's even felt like a message from my mom herself. Through so many situations that I needed to escape, it's the one I've come back to, even more than the rest of the album - and literally every song on the album except for Easy Ride is one that's taken on a lot of importance for me at some point.

I know, I know, there is nothing to fear, and I know that love will take us away from here.

Wherever "here" is. Whatever I fear.

Thank you, Madonna.

Originally posted to Popjustice on October 24, 2015.

Song commentary: Little Boots - Strangers

Lyrically, Strangers has always fascinated me. When I first got the Nocturnes album, I'd never been in a real relationship, and now that I've had and lost one, I still can't quite connect to it, because I'm too angry with my ex to even consider "dancing like strangers" with her if I ever bumped into her, though certainly "I knew [her] so well" and "we used to hold our bodies tight." But I love that idea of happening to cross paths with an old love, and trying to reconcile the past with the immediate present. It's a bit Before Sunset, isn't it?

But I appreciate it most for its aesthetic appeal. Something about the backing track and the vocal production has always appealed to me. It's a bit dream-pop, but the sort of dream you wake up from feeling confused, like all the elements of the dream are twisting around you, like Winnie-the-Pooh in the Heffalumps and Woozles scene, and it feels a little disconcerting even though it was sort of a nice dream. I guess that's fitting considering the lyrics. It also sounds like the last song of the night played at a mildly seedy club, as almost everyone's filtered out and you've only stayed because you've nothing else to do and don't really look forward to going home to an empty apartment. (Surprisingly, this is not an experience I've actually had ... but only because I've never gone clubbing, lolz.)

I played Nocturnes a LOT driving to and from work my senior year of undergrad, meaning that I heard a lot of it on near-empty highways after midnight (I worked the night shift), which is totally appropriate to its lyrics and its mood. Strangers is the one that always felt like it fit that time best, along with All for You, and even more than Motorway.

The first time I really paid attention to it, though, was one night when I was driving around three different parking lots looking for just one open spot, and eventually giving up and parking in the lot a half mile from my dorm, so that's the night I always associate with it! I can totally still see the dining hall and rows of cars when I close my eyes during the chorus.

Originally posted to Popjustice on January 23.

Song commentary: Little Boots - Real Girl

I've written commentary for a few songs that are really important to me over on Popjustice. I'm going to be posting them here for posterity. This one is from just last night.

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When I first saw the song title Real Girl, my mind naturally leapt to the Mutya Buena song. But the topic of this song is quite different - rather than an affirmation that “I never pretend to be someone I’m not,” it's an outcry against the Manic Pixie Dream Girl stereotype and its ilk, and a warning and plea to a partner who is unable or unwilling to acknowledge that the speaker is a real human, with all the messiness that entails. To quote Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: “I’m not a concept. I’m just a fucked-up girl who’s looking for my own peace of mind.” And that... really hit home for me, way more than Mutya’s song - which I related to enough to put in a recent selfmix.

I have talked at great length about my recent breakup from my ex-partner, and guess what motherfuckers, you’re going to hear about it some more. But I have deliberately kept very quiet on PJ up till now about another part of myself, because I’ve seen more than a biT of bigotry on here around the topic. But some people here already know it or have deduced it, and I talk about it at length on my Twitter and Tumblr and my “identities” essay linked to in my signature, so I may as well open up about it now.

I say in my signature that I’m PJ’s token lesbian, which is true. But the part of that I've never explicitly stated - though I’ve talked around it in a plug.dj session or two - is that I am, specifically, a trans woman.

I’ve been on hormone replacement therapy for about nine months now, and though I have breasts, and my legs have changed shape, I still mostly look like a boy, which is a real blow to my self-esteem, because I've always hated the way I look, and I think if I could just look more like the girl I really am, I’d be happier about it. Moreover, as a consequence of that, I still present as male at work and in most face-to-face situations (and for my classes, even though they’re online, as they're tied to my name on record). In other words, I’m treated as a boy when I’m anything but, and I’m always afraid that people who do address me as female see me as less female than a cis woman, when I’m truly as much a girl as any other. “All I really need, I wanna stop pretending ... Could you treat me like a real girl? Won’t you tell me that I'm worth more?”

That lyric goes double for my ex. By the time we got together, I'd been questioning my gender identity for a while, and at the time I identified as genderfluid: occasionally male or female, but usually agender. (Looking back, I think that was a period I had to go through to arrive at who I was meant to be.) About two months into the relationship, I realized that I was much more of a woman than a man, and I needed to chemically and socially transition. She was the first person I told, even before my family or my counselor. And for a very long time, she was my #1 supporter. She treated me like a girl even more than I did, at times catching me off guard when she casually referred to me as “she” when I was still correcting myself with my pronouns.

Then that began to unravel as I came closer and closer to my coming out on National Coming Out Day, this past October. She’s panromantic and refuses to come out of the closet (or even to open the damn door), and was terrified about being with me as a woman. And I believe that, on top of our other problems (miscommunication, differing life goals, wanting different levels of emotional intimacy, different priorities...) was what led her to leave me just over a week after I came out. Although we’d been talking about breaking up for four months at that point, it was really abrupt, just forty minutes after she’d asked if we could spend the weekend together as we often did, and with no prior warning the days leading up to it. I’d thought we were doing great and starting to overcome our problems.

So along with everything else I lost when she left me – my best friend, my “life” partner, my surrogate family, my confidante – I lost the person who had given me the most support and affirmation around my gender transition. “Could you treat me like a real girl? Isn’t that what you're here for?”

But somewhat ironically, in other ways – many of the ways the song describes – she hadn't treated me like a real girl. She admitted that part of why she'd wanted to get with me had been to prove to the world that someone could find her attractive. “I’m not a fantasy, I’m not some kind of Holy Ghost.” She had assumed that I wanted just what she wanted and thought just the way she thought, because she thought everyone did. “I didn’t promise I’d be perfect, didn't promise that I’d play the game.” She had thought we could avoid ever having a fight, because she expected the relationship to be perfect, and was totally unequipped to have to put in any work. “Were you hoping I’d be flawless? Were you wishing on a movie star?”

Now, I finally got around to listening to Working Girl two or three weeks after the breakup, as I recall. And there was Real Girl, packaging up all these troubles in one song - and it was a bauxp to boot. It was, and is, exactly the right song at the right time for me.

Tegan and Sara - Heartthrob

Released: January 29, 2013

Purchased: Some time in 2013 from Amazon MP3, when it was on sale for $2

First Thoughts: I've always really liked this one. I had heard of Tegan and Sara before, but never heard them, not being much of a rock fan. (I still haven't managed to listen to any of their other albums. Oop.) I group it in with Ellie Goulding's Lights and Nicola Roberts' Cinderella's Eyes as slightly left-of-center, arty, but still radio-friendly pop.

Playthrough:

Closer - I believe this is their biggest hit to date? Understandably so. It is a bit of a choon, though not as high-octane as it could be. I'd like to hear an Almighty-style remix of it. (I have the limited edition, stupidly expensive 12", and all the mixes are dubstep and shit.) It's really catchy and sort of an '80s throwback, but not in the obvious way a lot of recent-ish songs are.

Goodbye Goodbye - This keeps up the tempo and the mood of Closer. Even though it's a breakup song, it's quite energetic and even happy - the careless "fuck you, I'm too pretty for this" sort of breakup song, rather than a sad or angry one.

I Was a Fool - Whoa, the tempo drops way down on this one. It's a beautiful song, though not one that really keeps me coming back like the first two, and badly positioned on the album since it interrupts that energy. That being said, the lyrics are heartbreaking and wonderful.

I'm Not Your Hero - A very good song about keeping your expectations for someone realistic. This would have followed on marvelously from Goodbye Goodbye sound-wise. I wouldn't have chosen it as a single, but it's not bad or anything.

Drove Me Wild - The closest we get to a real banger on here. It would have been a great single. I like to imagine driving down a highway on a nice sunny early-summer day listening to this with the top down or the sunroof open (regrettably, my car is not a convertible, nor does it have a sunroof) and a special someone in the passenger seat. Actually, better for them to be driving and me to be the passenger. Yeah.

How Come You Don't Want Me Now - If Goodbye is the carefree breakup song and Fool is the sad one, this is the angry, sort of spiteful one. The sound stands in contrast to those lyrics, though - it's just as sing-along-able as Closer/Goodbye/Wild. Very Icona Pop, actually, only with totally different production obvi.

I Couldn't Be Your Friend - One of the less memorable songs on the album. The lyrics are about a relatable (especially for me) situation, but don't quite hit home the way Fool does.

Love They Say - This is kind of sad for me, because I associate it with my troubled relationship with my ex, and how in love with her I was ("The first time I saw your face, I knew that I was meant for you"). It's about that kind of relationship - challenging but still loving - and how it can still grow and flourish, and in that way it's a great counterpart to the breakup songs. Musically, it's one of my favorites. The verses are lovely, and it's impossible to not pay attention to it when that chorus comes in.

Now I'm All Messed Up - This definitely sounds like the start of the coda to the album. I never really remember it past the chorus, but it's serviceable.

Shock to Your System - This couldn't have served as anything but the last track on the album (at least the standard version). It's quite basic and fades into the background, as opposed to the attention-grabbing Closer/Goodbye/Wild/Say. I don't even remember anything about it beyond "you got a shock to your system" and the closing "what you are is lonely."

Final verdict: It suffers a little bit from sameyness, but it's still really enjoyable. Very much a spring or autumn album. I really hope they develop and continue to go in this direction for their next album, because if they fixed the flaws here they could give us something really incredible. Let's say 8/10.

Highlight: Closer is my real favorite, because despite being a little insubstantive, it's so easy to listen to, but since everybody knows that one: Love They Say.