Christine and the Queens – 'Chris' album review: Adding sweat and swagger to a perfect pop record
Sign up to Roisin O’Connor’s free weekly newsletter Now Hear This for the inside track on all things music Get our Now Hear This email for free Get our Now Hear This email for free SIGN UP I would like to be emailed about offers, events and updates from The Independent. In the four years since critics hailed her debut album as Christine and the Queens as “like peak Michael Jackson produced by Bjork”, she’s simultaneously toughened and loosened up. Always identifying herself as a queer, pansexual artist, she’s rebranded as “Chris”, cropping her hair and embracing a macho sweat and swagger. The quirky lyrical pleas for understanding of early hits like “Tilted” has been replaced by the empowered seduction of “Girlfriend”, on which lines “Don’t feel like a girlfriend/ But lover/ Damn, I’d be your lover” simmer over flickering flames of funk-guitar. The smart, fizzy “Goya Soda” finds her orbit around a boy who’s “always on my side/ But never on me” and slipping between English and French as she asks: “Who came there to see, who is seen, and qui mange quoi?” In the wonderful world of Christine and the Queens, linguistic borders are as porous as those between gender, era and genre.
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