It’s been nearly a quarter of a century since Róisín Murphy and Mark Brydon, as electronic music duo Moloko, secured their biggest hit, “Sing It Back.” It’s worth looking back on who else populated the highest echelons of the U.K. charts the time (the Spice Girls, Savage Garden, All Saints), if only because it underscores how rare it is for an artist like Murphy to maintain such a creative streak. Even by the consistently high standard of her past work, though, Hit Parade represents a new creative peak.
The album contains some of Murphy’s most infectious melodies to date, but as with so much of Hit Parade, there’s far more to songs like “Fader” than just pop hooks. Behind the track’s not-quite-radio-friendly chorus and absurdist lyrics—“I lay eggs every single time I think of you”—lays an expert sample of “Window Shopping” by Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings. Murphy delivers an enduring message of vitality with the urgency of an artist ready to prove wrong those who cast off female artists of a certain age: “They won’t choke the life out my vain jokes.”
If there’s a thematic thread running through Hit Parade, it’s desire. The brooding opener “What Not to Do” is a testament to the pitfalls of lust—how it leads us to contort ourselves into uncomfortable shapes and become smaller in aid of the approval of another. In that vein, the next track, “Coo Cool,” is the antidote: What sounds like a warm breeze rushes through the song, as Murphy sings of “that ol’ magic” returning in the face of a new love interest.
“The Universe” traverses much of the same thematic ground, with all the world’s forces seemingly aligned to let love blossom, but the song is singularly weird. Spoken-word interludes, distorted vocals, repetitions of “row, row, row my boat” all converge to create a daring masterpiece that only Murphy could convincingly pull off.
These songs, though, prove to be outliers. Their optimistic tone and pop-positive tendencies are largely replaced on the rest of the album with brooding synths courtesy of producer DJ Koze and darker musings. On the buzzy “Hurtz So Bad,” Murphy captures a relationship once guided by love but now primarily an exercise in dodging landmines: “Posting me a bomb/And if I open it, I’m a gone, gone, gone.” The next track, “This House,” describes love and desire as oppressive rather than freeing, as Murphy complains of feeling “locked” in. So it’s all the more satisfying when she finally tosses off her shackles on the seven-minute slow burn “You Knew,” asking, “What you expect me to toe the line for?/You knew exactly what you were buying!”
If Hit Parade isn’t Murphy’s best album, it’s certainly her wildest and weirdest. Nowhere else is the scale of her ambition more evident than on the percussive and atmospheric “Free Will.” Murphy says she doesn’t believe in free will but that you should “just make believe that you can write the play” anyway. It’s yet another indelible statement that couldn’t come from anyone else.
Since 2001, we've brought you uncompromising, candid takes on the world of film, music, television, video games, theater, and more. Independently owned and operated publications like Slant have been hit hard in recent years, but we’re committed to keeping our content free and accessible—meaning no paywalls or fees.
If you like what we do, please consider subscribing to our Patreon or making a donation.
It’s too bad that an artist whose presence is so steeped in self-determination & experimentation chose to speak out against life-saving care for transgender youth right before releasing this album, as her Facebook mum rants and cringe-inducing response has sucked the spirit & heart from her music for many of us. Posing questions of free will, as a cis white straight woman, hits different once you know she’s actively speaking against autonomy for a vulnerable group, and I can’t entertain her kooky experiments while her TERF fans are out here attacking us. It’s a shame she chose to play it this way; I really thought she had soul.
oh here we go again. everything taken out of context. you can’t fart these days. leave the woman alone for god’s sake. also it was a private conversation which was screenshot, it wasnt meant for public viewing.
At the point you used the word “TERF” I switched off. It’s a bigoted term. We don’t let children vote nor drive until they are old enough for very good common sense reasons.
Roisin is a wonderful woman and to call her transphobic or bigoted is absurd
Really refreshing review that completely ignores the controversy and just reviews the album. To see the real insanity around Roisin’s comments, check out the absolutely ridiculous Guardian review of it. they give it a 5 out of 5 and then slate her and say the album is stained.
Roisin’s comments were made from a place of concern and not from a place of hate. Let’s not forget also that they were made on her own personal Facebook account too. As a gay man, I find it disturbing that the LGBTQ+ community are super fast to leap onto these sorts of things and throw a huge amount of hate and bile to that person. It’s concerning.
Anyways, I am waffling. Go listen to the album. It’s fantastic.
Yep, it’s frustrating to see how almost every review mentions the controversy. They should separate the artist from the music and just review the music. It’s an album review after all (not to mention it’s unfair to DJ Koze, too). But unfortunately it looks like she got cancelled by many, over an unfortunate and, yes, private comment. Anyway, it’s one of the best albums of the year, and shame that so many publications seem to ignore it.