Goldfrapp
Tales Of Us

We last left them in 2010, Goldfrapp, with Head First, a pleasant electropop pastiche undoubtedly paying tribute to the Eighties, which, however, had satisfied the fans only halfway, accustomed probably to the atavistic ambient-folk repertoire of the misunderstood Felt Mountain—as well as the then more recent Seventh Tree—and little prepared to digest the second part of the dazzling duo Supernature - Black Cherry. Having acknowledged the difficult exit from the electronic anonymity, now saturated for years with the most extravagant and aberrant productions, the collective of Miss Alyson decided to pull out Peter Pan’s cap from mothballs and grab the magic book of folktronica (in reality more folk than tronica). Yes, indeed, if Head First emerged as the successor, the designated heir of Oh La La, Ride a White Horse, Satin Chic, Train and Strict Machine, the freshly leaked Tales of Us divorces from the electro-chic-retro Goldfrapp to marry only the sole, lonely Seventh Tree of the 'guitar and flute with synthesizer' Goldfrapp, in turn linked, now in a discographic polygamy, with the debut of Felt Mountain.

Tales of Us thus sees Alyson once again heading to Neverland to bewitch anew with her sixth album the folkloristic, indie-threaded, and melancholic-fairytale spirit of Goldfrapp aficionados from the get-go. The "big book" is divided into ten story-songs that—apart from Stranger—are (as suggested by the Wikipedia page) names of puppies and/or pets; the atmosphere is damnably rich with mystery, calmness, and mythological effervescence, manifesting in a composition of folktronica, downtempo, dream pop, indie pop and light synth improvisations dominated by the powerful and almost omnipotent trinity of voice-strings-guitar/mandolin. Drew, the first single, perfectly exemplifies the concept: a rich and profound melancholic-folk piece graced by the sinusoids of strings and, above all, by Alyson's ultra-faint vocal tone, lost in an ultra-real and ultra-terrestrial trip.

The orientation does not change—almost—for the entire duration of the album: Jo adds timid rock hints, Annabel is dominated by the lively orchestral-mandolin combination, Stranger fits perfectly into the unplugged section, Alvar proposes a dark ambient-classical dialectic that, alongside Simone, recalls the effused productions of the eclectic Bjork in the soundtrack Selmasongs, while Laurel loses itself in a difficult distinction between an exemplary chamber/art pop and a genuine, monumental classical symphony. The only one, out of the chorus, Thea—in the writer's opinion the best production of the album—reembraces the almost discarded synthpop of the better times.

Illuminating and dark, magical and yet unpretentious, the spell of Tales of Us by "witch" Alyson and her little wizards is successful, although not one hundred percent. The only flaw could be the almost total lack of "variety" within the album's corpus, almost entirely anchored to the established folk-classical flirtation, which nonetheless does not compromise the project's validity at all. Dedicated to all "Goldfrappians" who are hungry for tales and want to see their Alyson in Peter Pan's costume (but the female version of Harry Potter is fine too) and not masked with the sequins and spangles of today's electronic drift.

Goldfrapp, Tales of Us

Jo - Annabel - Drew - Ulla - Alvar - Thea - Simone - Stranger - Laurel - Clay