Goldfrapp
Seventh Tree

We had lost her, Alison.

The beautiful maiden whose voice had animated the Elysian world of the "felt mountain": her change in course was as drastic as it was unexpected. First came the electrifying and futuristic world of "Black Cherry," which distinctly divided the critics; then "Supernature" transformed the mechanistic and robotic universe of a "Strict Machine" into a glittery disco, where writhing bodies await a nod from Alison to begin an orgy. The commercial success was counterbalanced by harsh criticism, not always entirely justified.
Three years after that work of discord, however, Alison and her inseparable Will Gregory changed direction once again and no one could have predicted that the two would return to paths closer to their debut instead of following the success achieved with tracks like "Ooh La La".

This is fundamentally the concept of "Seventh Tree", just to play a bit on the cliché of many reviews about Goldfrapp: "the nymph has returned to her damn cinematic grove after experimenting with the porno-chic flatness and intermittent city lights." Only something is different: there is no longer that impalpable and light coldness that characterized "Felt Mountain." The extensive use of acoustic guitars and the reduced amount of electronics transform our beautiful enchanted grove into a field of wheat at sunset. In this evocative romantic setting, the voice of Alison Goldfrapp echoes, the true driving force behind the album's songs, which never ceases to surprise and enchant with its flexibility, almost like a Kate Bush of our times (and here I apologize for the bold comparison).

A bucolic and peaceful atmosphere permeates the air, fascinating in the graceful simplicity of the opener "Clowns" and blooming in "Little Bird" and in the almost psychedelic suggestions of its closure.
One of the album's peaks is represented by the radiant pop march of "Happiness", perfectly balanced between the duo's new folk-pop soul and electronics; it's impossible to resist that sticky refrain like glue, a bit of a post-drunk anthem and a bit of a piss-take.

"Eat Yourself" returns to the opener's territories: guitars, voice, and strings blend to create an ethereal and melancholic atmosphere. "Some People", on the other hand, is a somewhat predictable ballad, yet it serves as a successful exercise of elegance for Alison's voice.
The single "A&E" is summery and catchy, a fresh and highly classy pop crescendo. It sounds like the soundtrack of a somewhat niche TV show and benefits from one of the duo's most evocative lyrics.
What harkens back to "Felt Mountain" is more the sensual "Cologne Cerrone Houdini", which playfully engages with strings, almost recreating the atmosphere of "Utopia". Great title, by the way.
The immediate knock-out belongs to "Caravan Girl", which sounds carefree and airy despite the sometimes cloying vintage refrain. It's the piece that most consistently exploits the lesson of "Supernature".
Concluding the work is "Monster Love": so dramatic and distinctive it almost seems like a good Enya track.

"Seventh Tree" is exactly the opposite of what everyone would have expected from Goldfrapp: there isn't a single track that could be used in a nightclub; it is easy listening without desperately pandering to the mainstream audience and further expands the duo's musical horizons. We could say it's the warm and enveloping opposite of "Felt Mountain".
Alison and Will Gregory have therefore reshuffled the deck once again, perhaps not managing to win back all those who abandoned them after their debut but once again proving that the courage to change is not what they're lacking. More than anything, the world has understood that Alison Goldfrapp is not a bloody forest nymph and that if you bother her, she doesn't turn into a tree surrounded by fireflies, but rather, she gives you a kick in the teeth, and those, as is known, are more "Mortal Kombat" than "Sleeping Beauty".