St Vincent - Actor

The kooky female singer-songwriter is a difficult proposition at best, but former Polyphonic Spree guitarist Annie Clark, who performs under the moniker St Vincent, goes beyond mere kookiness into the realm of the properly bonkers. “I think I'm mad”, “On Monday I'm alright, on Tuesday I lose my mind” she sings - listening to her second album, Actor, you wouldn't doubt it.

By combining a love of Wizard of Oz melodies, avant-garde pop and fits of noise in bizarre, glassy arrangements, St Vincent creates a strange, disorientating fairy-tale world - think Feels-era Animal Collective tackling Van Dyke Parks' Song Cycle and you're somewhere close-ish.  Factor in her clipped, precise (and chilly) vocal delivery and you're left with something very unusual indeed.  It's a step-up in terms of ambition from her already-pretty-mad debut, and it's really far less accessible.

When it works it can be very good indeed - opening track The Strangers showcases St Vincent at her best, the beguiling melody and insistent, hypnotic call-and response vocals (these turn out to be all over the album) instantly dragging the listener into her strange universe. Clark has an ability to throw the listener off balance that demands attention. The Neighbors' sing-song verses run into an electric-shock of a (non-) chorus and by the time the dischordant instrumental section gets going you genuinely don't know what's going to happen next. What does follow is Actor Out of Work, an old-fashioned stomper whose directness suits her well.

She's original and talented, then, but not all her out-there ideas come off.  Marrow is simply unlisetnable: noodly, squelchy synths, tuneless verses and a mind-bogglingy irritating chorus will have you reaching for the fast-forward button. She never reaches this nadir again, but she can be hard work over the course of a full length album. The overall impression one gets is of an engaging, daring artist, but not quite a great one. She’s long on experimentation, but short on cohesion. It’s hard to shake the nagging thought that if you strip away the bells, whistles and everything else, too many songs are fundamentally lacking in tune. St Vincent may make you sit up and take notice, but, for this reviewer anyway, the heart remained untouched.