Review Summary: Nash's latest EP switches up her sounds, with generally enjoyable results
Kate Nash never settles on one musical style for long. Her indie-pop debut, "Made of Bricks," was fueled by pianos and percussion; her sophomore LP, "My Best Friend is You," took influence from '60s girl-pop and was far more experimental; and LP no. 3, "Girl Talk," was an ambitious but ultimately puzzling collection of tunes that tinkered with everything from hard rock and Liz Phair-style indie rock to rap. Since 2013, Nash has been pretty much AWOL, save for a holiday EP in late 2013, and judging from the diverse sounds on this release, she spent that time delving even deeper into the record crates (or iTunes, as the case may be).
The title track is perhaps the most unexpected and interesting song on the album: it's an anti-Trump tirade set to an MIA-esque beat... until the track takes a detour into laid-back dream pop. The song toggles between the two styles, and the end result is highly unusual and rather enjoyable. Yes, it occasionally gets bizarre (like when she instructs you to "brush your teeth... brush, brush, brush, brush!"), but it's timely and fun, albeit rather unoriginal in terms of sentiment.
The other highlight on the EP is "One Eye," a track that recalls her '60s-tinged tracks from "My Best Friend is You." Where the tracks on "Friend" were more Lesley Gore, though, "Eye" is purely Shangri-Las. Nash plays a psychopathic ex-girlfriend whose two-timing ex-partner is now terrified of her. The instrumentation is superb, as are the harmonized backing vocals. The highlight, though, is her creepy lyrics: as she's purring "I took my knife and I held it right in front of him/To teach him a lesson in suffering," it's hard not to get goosebumps. If the Shangri-Las were still recording, it doesn't seem much of a stretch to imagine them singing this song as-is.
One must wonder if Nash devoted most of her creativity to writing those two songs, because the other two - opener "Call Me" and closer "My Little Alien" - aren't nearly as interesting. "Call Me" sounds like the sort of thing you'd hear playing at an outlet mall clothing store - it's emotionally-sung and has the requisite throwback guitars (which could be from a Katy Perry or Lady Gaga song), plus the lovey-dovey chorus: "You can call me baby!" she announces, a statement which seems at odds with the female empowerment sentiment of the title track. Even so, despite the song’s utter facelessness, it’s a fair track.
The same cannot be said for closer “My Little Alien.” To be sure, it’s got the facelessness down, but it’s not fair – try “poor.” Her ode to her partner – whom she oddly compares to an alien – seems like the least original track here. The instrumentation is forgettable, and the most memorable aspect of the song – her shrieking “You light up the sky!” – is not a good one. If one were feeling charitable, he or she might call it a “quirky indie-pop love song.” I’m not feeling charitable, though, so I choose to call it a trite, forgettable song that seems to be pointlessly proud of itself. There are some very nice indie-pop love songs out there; thanks to its lifeless lyrics and lack of originality, this song isn’t one of them.
Overall, Nash’s EP cements her status as an eclectic songstress but probably won’t do much to redeem her in the eyes of those who doubt her talent. It’s an interesting EP, one that hopefully foreshadows a major shift in Nash’s musical style. “Agenda” isn’t quite as quirky or clever as Nash seems to think it is, but it’s a fair comeback nonetheless.
