On her third album, Herein Wild, Frankie Rose performs a magical synthesis of her first two albums to reveal her most satisfying and accomplished record yet. Her debut, Frankie Rose and the Outs, is a thrilling noise-pop car crash of an album, and Interstellar is a slickly melodic synth pop album. Artist: Frankie Rose Title Of Album: Herein Wild Year Of Release: September 24, 2013 (in North America ) October 8, 2013 (EU and UK) Label: Fat Possum Records Genre: Indie Pop Rock Female V. This week Frankie Rose will release Herein Wild, her third proper solo record and arguably (I’ll argue it, anyway) the best thing she’s ever done. Though it rarely goes without mentioning that.
On last year's breakout solo collection Interstellar, Frankie Rose shifted from the character-driven garage-rock she helped create with Dum Dum Girls, Vivian Girls, and the Outs to romanticized, Reagan-era dream-pop. On her new album, Herein Wild, she tries to sound bigger and smaller at the same time.
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It felt like only a matter of time before Frankie Rose evolved from a bright light in New York indie rock to a legitimate star and unsurprisingly, it happened on last year’s Interstellar, the first album attributed to her and her alone. The surprising part was how she shifted from the more character-driven garage-rock she helped create with Dum Dum Girls, Vivian Girls, and the Outs to romanticized, Reagan-era dream-pop, a genre that all but requires putting form before flair (see also: DIIV, Wild Nothing, Lotus Plaza). The main lyric in the chorus of Interstellar highlight “Know Me” actually went “don’t know me,” which felt apt for a record with a sharp and subtly diverse array of songs that revealed the range of Rose’s talent but not much about herself. Unfortunately, by making an exact replica of Interstellar minus the sharp and subtly diverse array of songs, Herein Wild reveals the limitations of that range while turning its predecessor’s personality void from a cost of doing business into a serious liability.
It’s futile to listen to Herein Wild without succumbing the urge to compare it to its predecessor; in fact, the sequencing is so similar that it damn near dares you to do so on a track-by-track basis. As with “Interstellar”, the leadoff here boasts a scene-chewing verse where Rose sings with the timbre of a touchtone phone before an anticipatory, on-the-one bass-drum thump guides her out of the vaporous reverb. Only you lose the knee-buckling dynamics of “Interstellar” and instead get a smooth ascent to one of Herein Wild’s 10 lilting and lightly pitched choruses. As with “Gospel/Grace”, the third song here is sleek and silvery indie-pop, but instead of flowing like liquid mercury like its Interstellar equivalent, “Into the Blue” sits in place like a glob of puffy glitter paint. Herein Wild is, once again, identically bisected by a beatless vocal showcase; previously, “Pair of Wings” wisely used Rose’s voice for texture, looping and weaving soft and silken harmonies. “Cliffs As High” at least acknowledges a new influence in Björk by demonstrating a similar obsession with altitude and surprisingly angular melody. But it’s the exact opposite of “Hyperballad” in every conceivable way, dozing off waiting for a more forceful vocalist who can counter its somnambulant string arrangement.
We could seriously do this for all 10 songs, but lead single “Sorrow” about sums up the disassociation between her ambitions to sound bigger and smaller (i.e., more ostensibly “personal”) at the same time. Ignore, if you can, how “Sorrow” has the same drum pattern as “Know Me”, since that song pretty much nicked its own from the Cure’s “Close to Me”, a sort of “Be My Baby” public domain entity for artists of this stripe. It’s also easy to condone the lyrics throughout Herein Wild trying to express more individual desires through the same water/dream/sky vocabulary that kept Interstellar so purposefully vague. More important is how “Sorrow” gives you an idea of what Rose meant when discussing the influence of film soundtracks on Herein Wild, in that there are real strings rather than synthesizers and songs not entirely indebted to strict verse/chorus structure. Yet the added orchestration adds bulk rather than depth; the strings arrive exactly when you’d expect and add another layer of syrupy sheen rather than counterpoint, the bridge doesn’t introduce any new melody or dynamic shift and the fake fade-out just kills time.
The misallocation of resources is even more pronounced when Rose tries to hearken back to Interstellar’s rawest rock song (“Night Swim”). “The Depths” makes a literal callback with its introductory lyric (“swimming across the water”), and its murky, bass-driven arrangement at least recalls a different iteration of the Cure (Pornography rather than Head on the Door). But even when it tries to menace, the overwhelming takeaway from Herein Wild is just how edgeless it is, bearing the consistency, texture and sickly sweetness of a circus peanut.
![Herein Herein](/uploads/1/2/4/7/124705325/441461268.jpg)
It’s not like Frankie Rose forgot how to write a catchy song and there are enough here where you wonder if it would be heard as “promising,” had it come from a new band as opposed to someone more familiar. But that’s the paradox of Herein Wild: it might be subject to less scrutiny had it not followed Interstellar, but then again, it might not be subject to scrutiny atall, and simply filed away with any other competent and unexceptional dream-pop. Besides, what’s the point of pretending Interstellar doesn’t exist when Herein Wild does the exact opposite? As the saying goes, the strict imitation of Herein Wild sincerely flatters its predecessor; it just doesn’t do the same for the person who made it.
![Frankie Rose Herein Wild Rar Frankie Rose Herein Wild Rar](/uploads/1/2/4/7/124705325/207306482.jpg)
On her third album, Herein Wild, Frankie Rose performs a magical synthesis of her first two albums to reveal her most satisfying and accomplished record yet. Her debut, Frankie Rose and the Outs, is a thrilling noise-pop car crash of an album, and Interstellar is a slickly melodic synth pop album. Both were brimming with exquisite pop songs, with Rose's bright and tender vocals leading the way. On Herein Wild, she retains much of the sophistication and texture of Interstellar, but brings back the fuzzy guitars and clattering drums of the first record. It's a nice amalgamation of her sounds and fits the new wave- and goth-inspired songwriting perfectly. The couple of tracks built around string sections and Frankie's multi-tracked vocals provide a nice contrast and show off her burgeoning style as an artist and producer. Indeed, the production is the most impressive aspect of the record on first listen. The way she runs her vocals through just the right amount of Auto-Tune and reverb to get it to soar over the music like a jet with wings made of clouds is perfect, the layering of instruments (including acoustic guitar this time) results in a wonderfully rich sound, and the shifting dynamics from song to song, and within each song, show that a great deal of care went into the record. After being stunned by how great the record sounds, one can be knocked for a loop by the melodic and emotional power of the songs. Almost every track here could stand on its own as a highlight -- the Cure-inspired 'Sorrow' or 'Street of Dreams,' both of which unfold slowly like a long, sad story, the dream-like 'Cliffs as High,' and the breathtaking 'You for Me' that starts the record off with a bang, to name but a few. Really, though, Herein Wild works best as an album. The kind that's perfect for hours of late night/early morning investigation, especially if you're feeling a little moody and lost. The songs, sounds, and Rose's tightly wound but expansive performance all build throughout to culminate in a very powerful experience by the album's end. It's the work of an artist who's not afraid to take chances; not afraid to grow. It's also the work of an artist at the absolute top of her game, and as a result, Herein Wild ranks as one of the best, most inspired and inspiring, albums of 2013.
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Sample | Title/Composer | Performer | Time |
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1 | 03:24 | ||
2 | 04:50 | ||
3 | 03:13 | ||
4 | 03:23 | ||
5 | 03:26 | ||
6 | 04:35 | ||
7 | 03:04 | ||
8 | 03:03 | ||
9 | Roman Paul Jug / Bryn Merrick / Christopher John Millar / Dave Vanian | 05:53 | |
10 | 02:09 |