Review Summary: Radiation, the good kind
Warpaint’s new album
Radiate like this takes its cues from the cover – it reminds one of that sensation of starting the day with the sky in one state, and after eight hours indoors you step out and discover the world has gone blush pink. Warpaint’s previous efforts have always sounded like a pulse – the pulse you might find in some primordial lifeform shaped like a Möbius strip. There’s an ever-present eeriness which offsets their more playful instincts. While
Radiate like this is unmistakably them, there’s a surprising warmth and directness added to the mix, and this freshness has resulted in a beautiful, uplifting record. They’ve done the most difficult of endeavours - making compelling music in a state of (mostly) contentedness.
The band have talked about how the changing world had tipped the boat for them. They had organically decided to kick off the process of getting together to record after taking some time for family and side projects. After some preliminary work, the lockdown hit and they were unable to proceed together. For a band that sounds like the music grows out of their shared presence, this should have probably signaled the end of the project for some time. But the multiple songwriters of the band continued to work in isolation, and perhaps these enforced parameters have been avenues of growth. It is fascinating to see how the isolation has changed some band dynamics – rather than making a lockdown record, they’ve created a record influenced by the circumstances but not referencing them directly.
Considering the direction and themes of the record were decided in a period of relative stability and peace, it must have been a challenge to continue in this vein. Warpaint have not just maintained their signature and made a pleasant record – they have created meditative, sophisticated work of joyful beauty. This is the sound of enjoying the warmth of a freshly brewed cup of tea cupped in your hands in the still of the morning, or glimpsing your lover and feeling everything is fundamentally right. Maybe you remember something amazing about your time together in the normality of the day, without any prompt or reason.
Empowerment anthems ‘Champion’ and ‘Hips’ are probably the most reminiscent of their earlier records – all catch, motion and no release. There are no ghosts haunting the songs though – they’re beckoning you to follow to the dance floor, which might just be your living room. ‘Hips’ is particularly infectious, with the beautiful harmonies adding rose to the cheeks, then going back to fuzzy guitar stabs over the intricate percussion and sensual vocals during the verses.
These give way to the ballads ‘Hard to tell you’ and ‘Stevie’, the former being a vulnerable confession about a change of heart. The song is all dramatic, spare opening but avoids descending into corniness by introducing fluid passages before the (by Warpaint standards) soaring chorus. The bass, synth and delicate guitar capture that feeling of moving on, but the song is still awash with sensitivity. ‘Stevie’ is an absolute joy – an out and out soulful R&B Technicolor ode to a lover. I’ve never thought of Warpaint as a vocally focused band – although an important component it’s always tracked like an element that serves the songs more than the other way round. Many of the vocals on this record, however, are more direct and show a wonderful new side to the singers. Emily Kokal excels on the track, with a lightness of touch and a warm open tone that makes it equal parts sexy and serene.
The backend of the record shifts down to mostly a slow burn, which the big piano dynamics of ‘Trouble’, and the sensual shuffle of ‘Proof’. There’s a percussive return on ‘Altar’ Then it closes with a sly little wink in the form of ‘Send nudes’, and all resistance is futile. This album is the heat of a wood burning stove or an afternoon sunbeam, it radiates, it grooves, it whispers honestly in the dark. And just before it leaves, it wants to make you blush.
