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Flo – Access All Areas
★★☆☆☆
“I would like to introduce you to a tenacious trio of talented young ladies,” intones Wicked star Cynthia Erivo at the beginning of Flo’s long-awaited debut, Access All Areas. She goes on to explain how “a pact was formed” by the British pop group to continue in the vein of girl bands before them: Destiny’s Child, the Sugababes and “other iconic baddies of the past”. This album, Erivo promises, is a “meticulously prepared feast for our ears”.
The pact has been broken. AAA fails to conjure any of the magic Erivo brings to her new fantasy film with Ariana Grande. Instead, the record is an overstuffed and underwhelming string of forgettable tunes – not banger or stirring torch song between them. Bandmates Jorja Douglas, Stella Quaresma and Renée Downer can neither emulate the sultriness of their US counterparts (Victoria Monet, Summer Walker, Kehlani) nor the charisma of this year’s reigning pop queens (Sabrina Carpenter, Chappell Roan, Charli XCX).
Flo’s road to AAA has been rocky to say the least. They were formed in 2019 by an Island Records A&R and attracted positive attention for their first single “Cardboard Box”. That same year, former Fifth Harmony star Normani was spearheading an R&B revival in the US; it seemed as though Flo were taking the UK lead. Subsequent singles, though, have failed to chart – with the exception of last year’s “Fly Girl”, a Missy Elliot collaboration that peaked at No 38. In a recent interview, it was glaringly evident the trio were struggling to assert the pop star identities that might help them appeal to a wider fanbase. Quaresma was “the funny one”, they decided, while Downer was “very organised”. Such labels don’t exactly scream “stadium-fillers”.
Nor do the songs themselves. MNEK is a solid producer and does his best with some nice harmonising on tracks such as “How Does It Feel” and “Bending My Rules”. Certainly, they’re all competent singers. But that’s about it. “Access All Areas” sees them stick to generic themes of love, longing, and heartache with some dubious lyrics. On “Soft”, they sing: “I’ll tell you what’s for dinner/ I’m flowing like a river.” There’s a pleasing switch-up thanks to some deft Spanish guitar-playing on “Caught Up”, but the song itself is a pale imitation of Destiny’s Child’s “Say My Name”. AAA doesn’t give us the faintest clue as to who these women are – or why we should care. ROC
Shawn Mendes – Shawn
★★★☆☆
If an album is an opportunity for a pop star to tell fans exactly who they are, Shawn Mendes is frank about the fact he has no idea. “I don’t really know who I am right now,” the 26-year-old pop star breathily confesses on the opening track of his third record. It is a by-the-numbers acoustic ditty, but with an emotional undertow that tugs at the senses.
In 2022, Mendes cancelled his tour, citing mental health as the reason; last month, he told fans he’s still “figuring his sexuality out” in response to question marks that have dogged him since releasing his first single a decade ago. When Mendes sings “I feel pressure from the people that I love and it hurts”, it’s easy to empathise, to let yourself be carried along by the ebb and flow of its propulsive folk bounce.
The rest of Shawn is less compelling. A collection of tunes that string together familiar images and narrative tropes into a pleasantly amorphous sonic journey; a lazy river ride you forget you’re even on. His are the airiest of strums and the most finger-picked of melodies.
The album glows with the warmth of a roaring campfire. And certainly, Mendes makes for a dreamy camp counsellor, guitar resting on his knee as he pumps out a steady stream of quasi-heartfelt, quasi-corny songs – the forgettable kind that are easy to pick up on first listen (“Sweet is the sun/ Warm is the rain/ June is the month/ Free is the day”).
Like any camp counsellor worth his braided bracelet, there are glimpses of endearing candour. “You can say I like girls or boys, whatever fits your mould,” he sings on “Mountain”. And later on “Why Why Why”, he quietly drops a tabloid-worthy bombshell: “Thought I was about to be a father, shook me to the core, I’m still a kid.” His vulnerability is admirable – if only his songs were half as daring. AN
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Warmduscher – Too Cold to Hold
★★★★☆
Warmduscher’s brilliant fifth album opens not with the Massachusetts drawl of frontman Clams Baker III, but with the Scottish burr of Trainspotting author Irvine Welsh. He takes a hit of the hallucinogenic drug DMT and surrenders to the trip, seeing friends “from 500 miles away” and immersing himself in “a universal pool of beautiful energy”.
His journey does well to sum up Too Cold to Hold’s own chaotic narrative. Along with bandmates Benjamin Romans Hopcraft, Adam Harmer, Marley Mackey, Quinn Whalley and Bleu Ottis Wright, Baker draws the listener into a cacophony of punk-rock, funk, hip-hop, and South African gqom. There’s a playfulness to songs such as “Pure at the Heart”, with its whirring synths, bouncing beat and loose harmonies. Closer “Weeds in the Garden” samples café culture – the rattle of knives and forks, friends hollering to one another – over woozy brass and woodwind.
There’s plenty of bite, too. The frenetic “Fashion Week” sends up the influencer crowd: “Got yourself some new shoes!” Baker yelps in mock-admiration. “Fifty hours overtime, can’t get no sleep.” On “Staying Alive”, over a snarling riff and slinky drumbeats, he snaps: “You wonder why your kids are high/ Told to study, work, and go and fight/ Far away from your tiny backyard/ Working three jobs just to say goodnight.”
In an interview with The Independent, Baker and Hopcraft described Warmduscher as a “party band”. It’s a label that speaks to the raucousness of their musical approach, sure, but Too Cold to Hold is also one of this year’s most acute depictions of 21st Century turmoil. ROC
