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Artist......: R≤isφn Murphy
Album.......: R≤isφn Machine
Label.......: Skint
Genre.......: Disco
Catnr.......: BRASSIC120CD
Source......: CD
Rip.date....: 2020-12-05
Str.date....: 2020-10-02
Quality.....: 965kbps / 44.1kHz / 2 channels
Url.........: http://www.roisinmurphyofficial.com
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\ / # title time \ /
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1. Simulation 8:29
2. Kingdom Of Endz 6:10
3. Something More 6:49
4. Shellfish Mademoiselle 4:17
5. Incapable 3:45
6. We Got Together 5:10
7. Murphy's Law 6:21
8. Game Changer 4:14
9. Narcissus 4:55
10. Jealousy 4:13
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\ / ________ Runtime 54:23
,\ /... . . .... .... \ / ' Size 396.50______
:\/ ', \ / , \ /
' '... ..\ /.. .. .....:. .. .... .. . ..\ /.
: Release Notes: \/ , \/ ,
' '
,: Over the course of the last 30 years, R≤isφn Murphy has made :,
: enough classics to fill up the Top 40 of a more fabulous world. :
:' To paraphrase the one-time announcer of this awful world's pop ':
,: countdown, Murphy has kept her couture-shod feet on the ground :,
: and kept reaching for the stars - though her idea of a star is :
:' more Cosey Fanni Tutti dancing to Sylvester than your average ':
,: pop idol. The Irish singer-songwriter's fifth solo album, R≤isφn :,
: Machine, might seem in some ways like the same old song and :
:' dance. But it's done with such impeccable elan that she has ':
,: turned the old nightlife songbook into a book of revelations. :,
: :
:' In Moloko, Murphy's turn-of-the-century duo of bedroom fiddlers ':
,: who ended up filling arenas, Murphy distilled awkward hedonism :,
: into intoxicants like "Sing It Back" and "Forever More." Her :
:' subsequent solo albums, brilliant as they often were, sometimes ':
,: felt more like mere representations of charisma, or deployments :,
: of charm, than, say, a confession on a dancefloor or finding :
:' love in a hopeless place or something you can't get out of your ':
,: head. In proper dance-music style, her best tracks often existed :,
: only on 12"s, like her 2014 collaboration with Freeform Five, :
:' "Leviathan," a fierce and forthright anthem which should be ':
,: played instead whenever someone requests "Titanium." Or the :,
: series she made with boompty savant Maurice Fulton, which often :
:' sounded like house classics overheard while trapped in an ':
,: adjacent rubber room. :,
: :
:' Machine fills out a recent clutch of 12"s with new tracks, all ':
,: made with Sheffield legend Parrot, whose work as Sweet Exorcist :,
: (with Cabaret Voltaire's Richard H. Kirk) helped form the :
:' character of early Warp records. Here, he raises the ':
,: electro-industrial psychedelia of Throbbing Gristle and the :,
: deeply considered thump of Larrys Levan and Heard into :
:' impeccable feats of sonic engineering that wisely never dare to ':
,: upstage the star of the show. :,
: :
:' After a brief prologue to set the stakes - "I will make my own ':
,: happy ending," she announces over an opening curtain of strings :,
: - the album moves psychogeographically through various dance :
:' terrains. It begins, with "Simulation," at the beginning: the ':
,: breath (layers of Murphy's exhalations, pluming like a fog :,
: machine) and the beat. (For club kids, a heartbeat isn't a :
:' double thump, it's a kick and a hi-hat.) "This is a ':
,: simulation," she lilts. "This is a lonely illusion/This is my :,
: only delusion." Disco, invented by people whose existence was :
:' uncertain, was a way to turn fantasy into fact. Here, Murphy is ':
,: part Oscar Wilde, praising the artificial as a mask that tells :,
: the truth, and part Willy Wonka, all conflicted beckoning. Part :
:' riot grrrl, too: "If it's all on my veins/It's all in my ':
,: mind/You don't get to be unkind!" she declares, like a clarion :,
: cry of "Girls to the front!" The dancefloor is a body, Murphy's :
:' own, and she's too busy blissing to entertain male notions of ':
,: authenticity, or the dangers their egos might engender. :,
: :
:' "Simulation" ends with one of the album's great builds, which ':
,: on a good pair of headphones sounds like liftoff and on a :,
: behemoth of a soundsystem - at, let's say, a busy moment of a :
:' particularly adult's-only corner of a queer dancefloor - feels ':
,: like poppers. Murphy has talked about sequencing Machine as a :,
: kind of DJ mix; a traditional one would take off even further :
:' from here. Perversely, "Kingdom of Ends" follows, a beatless ':
,: heater with stacked funk-operatic vocals calling back to The :,
: ArchAndroid and P-Funk before it. The chants amass above an ooze :
:' of trance, putting to shame the thousands of so-called ':
,: "deconstructed club" blobs currently clogging up Bandcamp. "This :,
: is easier than I expected," Murphy sneers. :
:' ':
,: Only then, with an absolute stormer of a disco strut called :,
: "Something More," is the Machine up and running at full steam. :
:' "Maybe this could be the last time I feel the strain/Of what ':
,: it's like to own everyone and everything/Life just keeps me :,
: wanting," she announces, as if reading out loud, for the first :
:' time, a diagnosis of her own condition. The song is a ':
,: masterclass of ambivalence, with a yearning bridge that settles :,
: into the chorus, once aching and now resigned. :
:' ':
,: The baggy "We Got Together" ricochets Murphy's hoots and hollers :,
: across booming fields, a simple celebration of how tough it can :
:' be to maintain a connection. With "Game Changer," she loosens ':
,: her grip. It's a humid pulse, that moment in a DJ set designed :,
: for a quick trip to the bar. This is Roφsφn Murphy, though, so :
:' it's not that easy. The track is somehow in freefall and ':
,: motionless. Her voice flashes through the air like tableaus :,
: caught in mid-strobe: "I thought I knew the way..."; "This is :
:' about to get realerà." Words smear. Just as with a slightly ':
,: inappropriate outfit, or a too-intimate (or intoxicated) :,
: conversation, what holds it all together is wit. :
:' ':
,: "Incapable" is brittle, its Eurodisco rhythm sharpened into :,
: snaps and claps. Murphy unloads a history of emotional distance. :
:' She knows all about that warm Moroder/Summer swoon: "I get that ':
,: there's a sensation/Though I don't know what it means." She :,
: can't feel love. "I should try and play my part," she reproves :
:' herself, but alas, all she's ever felt is a feverish chill. And ':
,: this is what it sounds like, percussion prickling like :,
: goosebumps, when your damage hardens into a visage. She falls :
:' through a trapdoor into full disco fever. "Narcissus" marries ':
,: Greek myth and a dance beat better than Xanadu ever did: Its :,
: pools of rippling strings evaporate into prance music for :
:' chatterbox Echo and selfie-obsessed Narcissus, characters ':
,: familiar to anyone who's ever waited in line for a nightclub :,
: powder room. :
:' ':
,: Disco fuels another gem: "Murphy's Law," a shimmering ode to a :,
: lack of self-control that she sings in a register as deep as the :
:' groove. The song is not a cover of Cheri's insouciant 1982 ':
,: boogie standard of the same name, and it is also not "Bad :,
: Girls," though it definitely shares some DNA, but it is as good :
:' as either of them. The nerve! And one more: "Jealousy," shorn ':
,: of more than half its original 12" length, starts in thrall to :,
: that destructive emotion and stays there. "Jealousy!" she :
:' chants, as if demanding her own humanity, while the track ':
,: surmounts a second great buildup, bookending "Simulation" as if :,
: to say the real drama is always human. After all the triumphs :
:' and tragedies of trying to connect to herself and other people ':
,: in the dark, she finds a role she was born to play: succinct :,
: dancefloor truth-teller, a character smart enough to see the :
:' worst about herself and clever enough to make it irresistible. ':
,: R≤isφn Murphy aims her tracks at the stars. With R≤isφn Machine, :,
: she's become one. :
:' ':
: '
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