MUSIC PREMIERES
There’s usually plenty of theatrics to St. Vincent gigs. The ‘Masseduction’ tour explored power, control and lust via PVC suits, a never-ending supply of guitars while the run of shows to celebrate the sugary; ‘70’s-inspired ‘Daddy’s Home’ were driven by a warm spontaneity as St Vincent and her extensive band worked through past trauma amidst (somewhat unfair) social media backlash.
She wanted something more direct and confrontational for seventh album ‘All Born Screaming’ though. “I’m gonna fuck ‘em up,” Annie Clark promised NME earlier this year. True to her word, tonight’s gig at London’s Royal Albert Hall is vicious, destructive, and pure electric.
Throughout the pulverising 90-minute set, Clark wields her guitar like a weapon and attacks the microphone with a restless urgency. Big, cathartic breakdowns teeter on the edge of chaos, but Clark and her four-piece band never let things fall apart completely. It’s gorgeous to watch, but it demands participation as well. With music this charged, there’s simply no standing on the sidelines.
In the years since St. Vincent last played London, co-writes with Taylor Swift (‘Cruel Summer’) and Olivia Rodrigo (‘Obsessed’) have taken over the airwaves, but instead of chasing an arena-sized glamour, ‘All Born Screaming’ is a visceral exploration of death, flecked with hope. That’s very much the mood of tonight’s gig as well.
From the crushing purge of opener ‘Reckless’ through the unsettling horror-infused ‘Big Time Nothing’ to the snotty ‘Flea’, St Vincent indulges in bleakness. It gives the glitching dystopia of ‘Los Ageless’, the soaring anxiety of ‘Fear The Future’ and the pleading ‘Marrow’ an added sense of despair, but there’s more to this show than rage in the dying light.
“Show of hands, who has a Prince Albert,” Clark asks with a smirk, immediately after praising the beauty of the grandiose venue while there’s a playful, choreographed turn from her and her guitarists during ‘Flea’.
“This song is for all the people who have loved immensely, stared at the moon, and taken that leap,” Clark says before a gorgeous ‘Sweetest Fruit’, a stripped back ‘Candy Darling’ is lush and delicate while even the unruly attack of ‘Broken Man’ is sprinkled with tenderness. As St. Vincent describes it, it’s “deep epic beauty and chaotic violence, all at the same time”.
After she dives into the crowd once more and embraces them for the soaring romance of ‘New York’, the night ends with ‘All Born Screaming’. On record, the twisting, furious track feels lethal but performed in front of a crowd, the song encourages a shared experience through collective pain and fear.
“We’re all here for one reason, and that reason is love,” Clark explains. “As far as I can tell, there’s no other fucking reason to do anything,” she adds, offering a vital protest against a world that feels increasingly dark.
‘Reckless’
‘Fear the Future’
‘Los Ageless’
‘Big Time Nothing’
‘Marrow’
‘Dilettante’
‘Pay Your Way in Pain’
‘Digital Witness’
‘Sweetest Fruit’
‘Flea’
‘Cheerleader’
‘Broken Man’
‘Krokodil’
‘Surgeon’
‘Hell Is Near’
‘Candy Darling’
‘New York’
‘Sugarboy’
‘All Born Screaming’
MUSIC PREMIERES
Lykke Li didn’t hold back when speaking about the making of her sixth studio album, ‘The Afterparty’, during a listening session in Los Angeles earlier this year. “Let’s talk about the album. It was a motherfucker to make,” she admitted to the crowd. While balancing motherhood, the chaos of modern culture shaped by Trump and AI, and her own desire to create something more “extroverted, impulsive and chaotic” than ‘EYEYE’, as she previously shared with NME, the Swedish alt pop star arrived at a headspace that “feels like it’s 4am and the sun is going to rise”. The record captures that blurry final moment before regret, exhaustion and reality settle in, which makes it even more emotional considering she has hinted this could potentially be her final album.
There is something fitting about how brief the project feels. With only nine tracks running across 24 minutes, it never overstays its welcome. Lykke immediately drops listeners into the atmosphere with opener ‘Not Gon Cry’, painting a picture of those lonely early morning hours with the line, “No angels here tonight, no dancing queens.” Alongside the shadowy pulse of ‘Happy Now’ and the twisted disco energy of ‘Lucky Now’, she revisits the emotional yet dance driven spirit of her earlier material while blending in the sharper, more confident attitude heard on ‘So Sad, So Sexy’ and the shimmering influence of her 2019 Mark Ronson collaboration ‘Late Night Feelings’.
The emotional fallout begins to settle in quickly. ‘Famous Last Words’ carries a lush orchestral sadness as Lykke reflects on lessons that only came after years of chaos and late nights, confessing, “I had to crash and burn to tell the tale.” Then comes ‘Future Fear’, a delicate acoustic track with robotic textures that stares directly into anxiety and uncertainty with the chilling question, “I’m going to a dark place, do you need anything?” Meanwhile, ‘So Happy I Could Die’ glows like sunrise after a sleepless night, holding onto fleeting moments as she sings about “slipping through the hourglass”.
Throughout the album, Lykke Li vividly captures the beauty and wreckage of reckless nights with the vulnerability that has always defined her music. On ‘Sick Of Love’, she channels heartbreak into revenge, wanting to “make you beg for it” after rejection in a way that feels spiritually connected to Robyn’s ‘Dancing On My Own’. One of the strongest moments arrives with ‘Knife In The Heart’, a track that fully embraces her desire to become the “rock god” and “fuck boy” she spoke about, firing back at anyone who tries to tear her down with the words “you can spit, you can walk on me” while delivering one of the catchiest songs she has created in years.
Closing track ‘Euphoria’ leaves behind the same bittersweet feeling that runs through the rest of the album. With sweeping strings, pulsing beats and emotional intensity, Lykke Li reminds listeners that nothing lasts forever as she sings, “Player play your song, waste the night away”. Like the fading energy of the perfect night out, ‘The Afterparty’ ends in a haze of beauty and uncertainty. If this truly is her farewell, she leaves with one final intoxicating statement, though it still feels like there could be another chapter waiting.
