Pirouette by Model/Actriz
#9
Pop music can be a complicated medium for queerness. Particularly since we presently seem to be undergoing a conservative regression - there is a very loud vacancy of queer artists who are both high profile and universally respected. In particular, Sam Smith and Lil Nas X have seen pretty significant declines in popularity. And all the while, a Mormon kid named Benson Boone is doing backflips in skintight, sparkly jumpsuits. Now, more than ever, queerness catapults straight, boring artists into superstardoms while actual queer artists struggle to reach an audience, and are sequestered to alternative spaces.
Despite all of this, Model/Actriz followed up their incredibly dark, unnerving, no-wave-inflected debut Dogsbody with Pirouette: a sophomore effort that often feels a bit like a pop album. From the start with the falsetto hook of “Vespers,” Cole Haden approaches popstar sensibility a la Circus-era Britney with genre-melding confidence as he straddles industrial/no-wave music and German techno. The sound is simultaneously anxious and club-ready, producing moments like “Diva” whose spoken verses ooze with swagger, but also like “Acid Rain,” whose soft instrumentation and gentle melodies bizarrely harken to Y2K adult pop (the vibe of Tori Amos’ “A Sorta Fairytale” comes to mind).
An important difference between Dogsbody and Pirouette comes when considering how each of them approach discussing queerness. Where Dogsbody was rapt with hedonism, shame, and overt sexuality, Pirouette takes more of a self-possessed and unpacked approach. Some tracks, like closer “Baton,” are more about how vulnerable it feels to be perceived by others when, for example, they remember something about you that you forgot. In “Diva,” Haden meets other gay men in Europe with the obstacle of having nowhere to take them home (“No home to take you home to”), showing the intersection of loneliness and scarcity. In “Cinderella,” Haden recalls wanting a Cinderella birthday party when he was five but not asking for one because of a conscious fear of betrayal and abandonment. Thus, Pirouette comes as a poignant and thoughtful release, without sacrificing the band’s intrigue and experimentation.