Release Date: March 5th, 2013
Kate Nash seemed to have fallen off her hand-carved, acid-tongued map, driving hard into obscurity. Nash distinguished herself as reigning melodic smartass with her unforgiving lyrical quips and dolled-up hooks; but after spending some quality time with Le Tigre’s JD Samson marinating in a pot of feminism and Hole riffs, the British songstress has returned with a fierce sound and a flexed riot grrrl muscle. Girl Talk, Nash’s third album, deliberately shoves cock pop in a corner with ring-adorned fists flying.
“Part Heart” is a mellow start to the incredibly hypertensive record Girl Talk amounts to be. Nash’s vocals flourish with a Mazzy Star mellow and shine in productive restraint with simple backdrops, letting her unloved laments take center stage. Known for her eye-rolling delivery and quick-witted rhymes, Nash takes a step in a more emotionally rooted direction by showing some vulnerability and hopelessness with the lyrics. The final third of the song finds the trademark strength and masculine banishment that has forged Kate Nash into a feminist voyeur.
“Death Proof” marches to an elastic bass line with pulsating guitar trimmings channeling the buzzing scores of old-school spy movies. The melody seems a bit forced, but its intricacies can’t be ignored. The track immediately spirals into a clever and drilling commentary on the physicality of love. “Are You There Sweetheart?” a cavity drilling tale of a helicoptering lover that overstays his welcome. Just when it’s about to wind down around three minutes, it self-resurrects in an unnecessary cavalcade of overdubs and guitar hammers
Marking the apex of the album, “Sister” perfectly balances the feverish riot grrrl and piano-pounding songstress tussling within Nash. She cracks with enraged squeaks and guttural roars, somehow both unexpected yet apt from the pin-curled babe. Nash’s Le Tigre mentorship is overbearing in the frenzied delivery and groaning vocals. “Oh my god, I’m so funny HAHA” is the most teasing, satisfying lyric of the track—and possibly the album—proving that a frisky vein still winds around Nash’s hardened heart.
Nash evokes Lily Allen with a social conscience (think “Smile” at a pro-choice rally) with “3AM,” a hyper-melodic ditty. Despite the singsong overload, the chorus is so undeniably fitting against the major-chord triumphs of Nash’s catalog. She unexpectedly steers completely off her well-paved pop-punk path with “Rap for Rejection,” which is…er, exactly what it sounds like. Nash’s rap chops are impressive, but with caked-on distortion, seems more like an outtake than an album track. The cynical Brit resurrects her knuckle-cracking jibes and brain-bending jests, but they’re wasted amidst the misguided attempt to break fifteen tracks of monotony.
The final third of the album is a vicious beating between said rap and helium-pumped punk. “Cherry Picker” bears more emotional resemblance to a toy-deprived toddler than Nash’s usual fervently acute vantage point. “You’re So Cool, I’m So Freaky” is a browbeaten acoustic number, beginning with “I’m a waste of space, I don’t understand you.” Glimmers of Kimya Dawson vocal styling sneaks in with an off-kilter backing choir and the apt declaration of social alienation. The oeuvre proves that Nash hasn’t become totally hardened by her newfound femme power groove—she’s just a little more abrasive.
“Lullaby For An Insomniac” is an unsatisfying end to the album, featuring nothing but a frustratingly casual vocal track. From shallow breaths to affected pitch dips, the track is raw and gnawed to the bone but boasts no purpose. The album reaches a fleeting sense of closure with the interjection of a silver screen-worthy string section but still feels like an outlier to this raging, finger-flinging album.
Kate Nash has a certain way of making the wound-up “fuck you” sound eloquent—the cute pinup look and cockney accent help—and it’s a talent that she still boasts, even after three albums. Nash has ample subject matter at her disposal, but not enough to warrant a staggering fifteen tracks; she seems to care about plenty, and ready to hate on it just as ferociously. Those mental tremors and emotional isotopes are exactly what make her such a volatile songwriter and disarming performer; but hogging the ingredients for brilliance doesn’t make it so, and Girl Talk is proof.
Kate Nash – Girl Talk tracklist:
- “Part Heart”
- “Fri-end?”
- “Death Proof”
- “Are You There Sweetheart?”
- “Sister”
- “OMYGOD!”
- “Oh”
- “All Talk”
- “Conventional Girl”
- ” 3AM”
- “Rap for Rejection”
- “Cherry Pickin”
- “Labyrinth”
- “You’re So Cool, I’m So Freaky”
- “Lullaby for an Insomniac”
