Roisin Murphy
Orally Fixated

Do not think that I am always submerged in dark, sad, depressing, or ghostly sounds! Sometimes, even I feel like diving into something more carefree or playful. The main group I happily listen to when I have this thirst for musical cheerfulness is Moloko, which I already introduced here with the splendid "Statues".
Although they never revolutionized anything, they are a group that manages to turn pop into a work of art: catchy melodies are combined, in fact, with murky electronic beats, dizzying forays into jazz, swing, and trip-hop. I like to see them as the sunny version of Portishead, with a Beth Gibbons who discovers love and, after crying all her life, goes to the club to dance until dawn. This Beth Gibbons, in this case, is Roisin Murphy, a blonde doe with a spectacular voice, practically shaped to sing anything. 

Sure, it's pop. But it's a pop that very few others know how to make: their tunes never tire, last more than a season (and the fact that they're loved after twenty years is proof of that). Extremely refined music, yet at the same time schizophrenic, original, exciting. 
Between bold experiments and big singles (how can we forget the spectacular pop masterpieces "The Time Is Now" and "Sing It Back"?), the pair eventually split: no longer lovers, no more music together. 

Roisin, however, has a strong charisma and the right voice. So why not make her solo debut? The miracle seems ready: "Ruby Blue" (2005), produced by none other than Matthew Herbert, was a great album. Less powerful than Moloko's records, but the elegant and experimental mix of minimal house and jazz managed to convince with enthusiasm. Then came the second attempt, "Overpowered" (2007), praised by critics and the public. I didn't like it at all. 
Despite being still a notch above everything else in the pop genre, it was astonishingly banal: supermarket electro-pop only vaguely more auteur and bland melodies, absolutely not memorable, almost always accompanied by relentless beats where not even the performer's voice could save the songs' inconsistency. 

The third album never came: Roisin retreated to her corner to have one child after another. Every now and then she knocks on the door, like "Hey, I'm here, you know! I haven't disappeared!", releasing small singles as bad as those things you hear on the radio. Stuff that when you think it comes from the sultry voice of "The Time Is Now," it gives you convulsions.

The most serious peak, however, is definitely "Orally Fixated", which already from the cover suggests the worst.

Watch as now even Murphy transforms into a sexy chart-bomb.

Indeed, yes: a horrible piece, without flair, without imagination, banal and with a silly structure like the worst Spears.  

The dismay, for those who loved her risks (even just vocal... just remember "Indigo" or "Pure Pleasure Seeker") cannot but be high. And it's a pity. A pity almost worse than the original sin.

A piece with a chorus as bad as hunger, opening with an tacky kick drum and synths coming from the worst of the '80s. I don't know what to say. I was so disappointed that I had to write a review about it, which is as useful as a broken-tipped Ikea pencil, I know.

But understand me: what would you do if the only group you listen to in carefree moments plunged into horror without being able to come back from the abyss? I guess I should go back to the Joy Division, even when I'm as joyful as an Easter. 

Because as long as some bimbos die under a wave of shit, I'm fine, but if it's Murphy, no.