<span><span>- If you want to dance in your kitchen this lockdown, Laura Mvula's new album of irrepressible ‘80’s-style bops has you covered. </span></span>

<span><span>Mvula has done a lot of soul-searching in the five years since the release of her last album and you can almost feel the therapy she's undergone. As on her critically-acclaimed albums <em>Sing to the Moon</em> and <em>The Dreaming Room,</em> the lyrics reveal vulnerability, but vocal attack and driving rhythm and bass present a new armour. This might be a break-up album, but it is ebullient rather than bitter, with the release of being on the other side of struggle.</span></span>

<span><span>Mvula is open about her debilitating panic attacks - she stated in her BBC Radio 4 Documentary <em>Generation Anxiety</em> that she has needed a live-in carer. She has gone through the breakdown of her own marriage and her parents’ divorce and though <em>Pink Noise</em> could be referencing a romantic break up, it's also about being dropped suddenly by her previous label, Sony, in a forwarded seven-line email. Though devastating, this has given Mvula time to reconsider the artist that she wants to be. <em>Pink Noise</em> is bookended by complex vocal accompaniment on <em>Safe Passage</em> and <em>Before The Dawn</em> that is classic Mvula, but with <strong>Phil Collins</strong>-esque drums and sparkling synth welcoming you into her new sonic world. </span></span>

<span><span><em>Golden Ashes</em> is explicitly about the Sony debacle, opening with the lyrics "<em>I wore them pretty colours and fancy feathers / Thought I could walk on water just like no other</em>", recalling the album artwork for <em>The Dreaming Room</em>. It is harmonically and structurally jarring, contrasting percussive vocal inflections in the verses with gospel-style choruses about losing your way and finding your own beautiful screaming, or "<em>wolf cry</em>".</span></span>

<span><span>Mvula idolises artists like <strong>Prince</strong> and <strong>Bowie</strong> who carved their own path - and she also resists classification. However, <em>Pink Noise</em> is grounded by her instantly recognisable vocals. She retains her virtuosity on tracks like <em>Magical</em>, but stripped back of some of the lush maximalism we've come to expect. <em>Magical</em> name-checks <em>Purple Rain</em> and is a perfect pastiche for slow-dancing at a prom. <em>What Matters</em>, her duet with <strong>Biffy Clyro</strong>'s <strong>Simon Neil</strong>, is ethereal and also wouldn't be out of place in a John Hughes romcom. <em>Conditional</em> recalls <strong>Grace Jones</strong>, and <em>Got Me</em> is a <strong>Michael Jackson</strong>-style banger.</span></span>

<span><span><em>Pink Noise</em> is named for the in-vogue option for peaceful sleep and lower anxiety - the pink-noise sound spectrum is weighted towards bass frequencies and evokes natural phenomena such as waterfalls and heavy tropical rain, and I can't think of a better name for this overwhelming, more joyful version of Mvula's sound.</span></span>

<span><span>- Jessica Taylor.

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