Hit Parade by Róisín Murphy

Album cover for Hit Parade

2020 marked a year of renaissance in the career of the Irish electro-dance pop singer Roisin Murphy. The record she released that year, Roísín Machine, brought her the critical acclaim she consistently garnered, but also became her highest charting record in her home country and abroad. It is easy to see why that was; Murphy pumped out cathartic dancefloor numbers for track after track in a year in which the dancefloor grew to be a distant memory. Now, 3 years later, Murphy is back and ready to explore a diverse palate of sounds in her newest 8th of September release Hit Parade. This time, her sound is more funk than disco but it’s still as infused with dance and electronic elements as ever. The singles released in the run-up offered optimism from fans that Murphy would use to build on the momentum generated by her previous album.

It was mightily disappointing, then, when a screenshot of a recent Facebook comment surfaced during the lead-up to the album’s release in which Murphy decries the use of the term TERF, describing trans kids as “mixed up,” deriding the use of puberty blockers in treating gender dysphoria in teenagers, and claiming that “Big Pharma is laughing all the way to the bank.” For a musician who has steadfastly built and championed a sizable queer fanbase, this was a major shock that will hurt a lot of her fans who are directly made less safe by rhetoric like Murphy’s. Alas, despite the controversy, the album, Hit Parade was released, albeit with no advertising and marketing on the part of the label. Despite the album’s release being marred by controversy, Murphy showcases herself to nonetheless be a master of the human condition in a funkified form, it’s just a shame that her understanding fails to extend to the trans community. That being said, it is you as readers who determine whether these comments are worthy of refusing to engage with Murphy’s artistic output. Regardless of whether you do or not, it is important to keep the views espoused by Murphy in mind, as they are directly leading to an immense amount of harm both legally and socially for trans people everywhere.

The album is a collaboration with DJ Koze, a German producer and DJ whose presence is immediately felt from the opening track “What Not To Do.” Murphy’s vocals are altered and auto-tuned as she hums over a combination of percussive, bassy, and high-pitched synths. Murphy’s lyrics are cryptic passages that make oblique reference to Shakespearean love, but her tone is strikingly casual and loose. It is as if Murphy is trying to play it cool in an early encounter with a new romantic interest. The next track was the first single released off the album, aptly named “Coocool.” It’s the poppiest and most listenable track on the album. Abandoning the tension between words and actions of the opening track, Murphy favors a blissful song about the playful, silly stage of love. Koze again proves his ability to warp and bend the backing track to reflect the silliness Murphy speaks of. He starts by giving the song a grainy, vintage feel with a funk-inspired guitar lick that he goes on to contrast with staunchly electronic drums made for the dancefloor. This interplay between the quieter lounge-inspired moments that build into percussive dance floor crescendos makes this collection of songs so memorable.

Murphy combines this freeness and humor with both earnest declarations of bliss and frank statements of heartbreak. “The Universe” is another single that contains warped and layered vocals from Murphy that depict her as besotted, as if the universe itself is on the side of her and her partner. In this earnest moment, Murphy switches gears, satirizing her gooey introduction by interpolating “Row, row, row your boat,” exaggerating her claim by changing the lyric to “multiverse” and ominously foreshadowing with the line “What possibly could go wrong?” The next song on the tracklist is “The House” which marks a shift in tone for the record in which Murphy ruminates over the relationship at the heart of the narrative. She’s stuck in the walls of the titular house under the influence of psychoactive drugs. A significant portion of the song is sung to Toto, the dog from “The Wizard of Oz,” a humorous twist that accentuates her altered state alongside Koze’s production glitching and looping the backing track.

“Fader” is an album single that marks the beginning of the second half of the record. This song adopts and repeats the simple mantra “keep on!”, a callback to the standout track from her last album, Murphy’s Law, which also utilized this phrase. Murphy’s next track, “Free Will” reflects on how being in love can feel paralyzing as if you are completely and utterly and the whim of your desire. It features analog percussion near the end that is more reminiscent of Murphy’s first solo album Ruby Blue, from 2005, than anything released since. Because of these callbacks, the album truly feels like a culmination of Murphy’s talents as an artist, as she fuses together all of her eclectic influences, whether they be musical, comedic, literary, or philosophical.

The next two tracks bear this out as Murphy pulls together some bread and butter, expansive and gorgeous house numbers that prove to be the high point of the album. “You Knew” is an anthem of frustration as Murphy tears apart this man with a repeated spoken word piece interjecting in the lyrics “And I think you’ve always known I have feelings for you that burn/But you just won’t go there with me/And take some sort of responsibility/Your mere reactions/I take actions.” It is a great song that will no doubt cement itself in the pantheon of cathartic dance bangers. “Can’t Replicate” is more vulnerable and regretful in tone, as Murphy rues the fact that she can’t replicate the way that man makes her feel and that she let him in so close. “Two Ways” continues the high streak where the dissonant production and vocals are at the forefront, and Koze and Murphy pull this off. The track is densely layered with Murphy’s electronically altered vocals, which are so intricate that messing with the audio settings can turn this into an entirely different song. “Eureka” is an ideal album closer with the anchoring line “He took one look at me/Told me he could see/There was something there.” A perfect sentiment to end on. It is my opinion that, as unforgivable as her comments towards the trans community are, it is undeniable that in Roisin Murphy’s artistic voice, there’s something there.