Xiu Xiu
Always

Stop! To review an album by Xiu Xiu, one must first know every single line and every single sound because Jamie Stewart, the charismatic leader of the group, has always played with the reaction and listening experience of the audience: first embracing them with catchy and disastrous refrains, then hurling them towards abysses of growing despair. This is why little has been said about "Always," indeed the weakest album from one of the most shocking groups in recent years, yet still a complete and beautiful work, captivating and disorienting, that manages to instill once again the palpable emotions that characterize this ambiguous musical creature.

"Always," an album that follows "Dear God, I Hate Myself," was an album that was above all its leader's—very personal and heartfelt, almost a solo record, if it weren't for the extraordinary and visionary electronic storm by Angela Seo, the new female soul replacing Caralee McElroy, who left shattered by the experience. "Always" is an album that sinks into the catchy to stab you with a dagger when you least expect it, opening with a time bomb like "Hi," the perfect single: electronic violence that burns and strikes, opening into daring bursts of blood and painful parables of tenderness. The album flows and you get lost: among the simple choruses that remain impressed under the art-noise fabrics ("Joey's Song," "Beauty Town," "Born To Suffer," "Gul Mudin," "Chimney's Afire," the latter almost an ideal continuation of the rock anthem "White Nerd," the powerful rock scream enclosed in the jewel of "Women As Lovers"), sudden outbursts of noise and anger ("I Love Abortion," beautiful), new-wave nostalgia ("Honeysuckle") and psychodramas worthy of the best Stewart ("Factory Girl" and especially the extraordinary "Black Drum Machine," placed at the end, dragging you into the inferno with that beautiful, painfully apologetic request), you also find yourself stopping time with the enchanting piano whispers of "The Oldness," almost a lullaby for black masses, and a lopsided, delightful duet with Carla Bozulich ("Smear The Queen").

Unlike other Xiu Xiu albums, it is a more structured album, despite still having the desire to dare, more accessible and controlled, yet still capable of scratching. Despite the hope for a new "A Promise," the pinnacle of their art, one often finds themselves falling into these abysses.

And it hurts. And it's pleasing.