It’s tempting to imagine the sequencing as a queering of tradition, with an opening section of mostly noise and spoken-word sci-fi ruminations to preemptively drag any worries of “the difficult second album” syndrome. Yet it’s also structured in the standard dance music “big night out” mix, with an ambient beginning, vocal pop warmup, deep and drugged-out techno center, and blissed-out sendoff. Sophie could sequence in every sense of the word, but SOPHIE feels preprogrammed.
It’s a feeling reinforced by the grouping of various tracks made with the same collaborators. Maybe this is a way of emphasizing her belief in them; maybe it’s like a runway show, when a designer sends all the yellow dresses out together. Somehow, it sets them into competition. Take the second side’s bunch of BC Kingdom collabs. Each takes on the kind of syncopated organ base which has been a dance-pop building block since at least “Show Me Love.” “Reason Why” is the trap-pop version, “Live In My Truth” rings out with early 2000s R&B sass, and “Why Lies” brings a freestyle beat to the party.
Lined up in a row, you sort of just want to pull one off the stage with a big hook. “Live In My Truth” is all party-hearty aphorisms and, listen: The stakes of celebrating are too often life-and-death for queer, and especially trans, people. Sometimes we get eye-watering monuments to resilience and joy on a track like “Immaterial.” Here, it’s just a hand raising up a Solo cup. But the candy-coated joie de vivre of “Why Lies” is undeniable, with lyrics like “Please save the drama for your mama/And your daddy/And your granny” that are so dumb you just have to sing along. As for the glistening if sluggish “Reason Why” and Kim Petras’ “getting money like a DJ” line, not so much.
SOPHIE’s brother has said that the album’s techno center was largely created live, like a DJ making mixes. It sounds that way. If SOPHIE’s best work often played like it was beamed fully from her brain, tracks like “Elegance” and “One More Time,” both featuring Popstar, show their hand much more—their BPMs slide around, their beats crossfade, they represent the long tradition of knob twiddling. Tracks also look back: “Gallop” is a little gabba gem for the generations of girlies who won’t slow down, while “Berlin Nightmare” frets and struts like prime Green Velvet. I guess we’ll never know if these moments were her laying breadcrumbs of early influences on her path to somewhere new, or just the pleasure of remembering. Time will tell if any of them are as memorable as, say, “Ponyboy.”
