Rating ****
Róisín Murphy has never followed chart trends – in fact, she’s long pioneered the opposite. It’s an approach that’s earned her legions of fans for her confident and consistent output, from her early days as one-half of electronic/dance duo Moloko, through her 2005 solo debut Ruby Blue and most recent release, 2016’s Take Her Up to Monto.
On her new album, Róisín Machine, though, she ventures into new territory – producing a record that, on paper at least, is right on the mark with the disco deja vu that’s dominated the Top 40 throughout 2020.
While her contemporaries might navigate the territory with an eye to the past, however, Murphy throws herself in head-first, in what feels less like a strive for commercialism and more a masterclass for those in her shadow in hedonistic, dancefloor-ready, feel-good anthems .
That, perhaps, is because the star honed her craft not onstage but in clubs – she explains: “It does [feel strange] actually [to be in the mainstream]! It’s particularly annoying to be shoved in with lots of other girl singers. I don’t feel like them.
“I feel like it comes out of clubbing all my life, since I was 15,” she reflects, adding, “It’s nice to be on-trend for once.”
It’s a bitter irony that a disco resurgence should emerge in the midst of a pandemic that’s left only the tamest venues open and dancefloors a no-go, but if ever there was an album to pull you out of a rut and onto your feet, it’s Róisín Machine.
“I feel my story is still untold / But I make my own happy ending,” begins the eight-minute Simulation, with its hypnotic, pulsating beats and irresistible “This is a simulation” refrain. The unconventional opener wouldn’t sound out of place in the mid-’90s – yet it’s not a second out of date.
Kingdom of Ends, another extended number, addresses time directly, with lyrics like “Keep waking up at 6 am, getting up, doing it all again” particularly impactful in the current climate, while Something More is about living unapologetically – “I live my life without regret / I put it all at stake / I want it all,” Murphy declares.
What stands out instantly about Róisín Machine is the brilliance of its sequencing – each track feeds into the next, defying you to hit ‘Next’ – which, in a world where songs are slowly getting shorter as attention spans dwindle, is a welcome reassurance.
It’s also a crescendo of sorts, with the tempo and bass seemingly increasing as the collection goes on, culminating with double-punch of ‘70s tinged Narcissus and brash Jealousy, both of which stand out particularly well following the subdued Game Changer, with its funky synths and finger clicks.
At the centre of Róisín Machine is Murphy’s Law, which plays on the classic adage that, “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.” But in the context of the album, it takes on a whole new meaning – Róisín Machine welcomes you into Murphy’s world of free-living and careless pleasures, indulgence and, most importantly, mirrorballs and late-night boogie-ing.
We’re all longing to hit the dancefloor once again – and who knows when that will be – but for an hour, Murphy succeeds in injecting the essence of the best nights out into one record – and it feels so good!
