Albums of the week: Lorde, Bruce Springsteen, Kevin Abstract, Herbert & Momoko

Lorde

Virgin

(Republic)

We last encountered Lorde on a Pacific island, throwing her phone in the sea (Solar Power, 2021). We rejoin her in New York, getting her ears pierced on Canal Street, filming flash-mob videos.

In Hammer, which opens her fourth album, Lorde has written “an ode to city life and horniness”. Themes of rebirth run through Virgin – sloughing off a long-term partner and resolving disordered eating are two more hard things to which this revealing album bears witness. The album’s cover features an X-ray of Lorde’s pelvis, complete with a visible IUD.

Lorde has long been a master of electronic pop with club overtones, but here, she is in her body like never before (“in the gym I lifted your bodyweight,” she sings on If She Could See Me Now), and investigating her masculinity.

Shapeshifter’s foray into two‑step beats feels gratuitous, but the album’s lead banger, What Was That, went to No 1 on Spotify and Broken Glass supplies the same rush. Virgin is at its best, though, when it is stark – as on Clearblue, a multi-tracked a cappella vocal reminiscent of Bon Iver (another client of producer Jim-E Stack), or Man of the Year, with its R&B vocal and percussive breathing.

Bruce Springsteen

Tracks II: The Lost Albums

(Columbia)

When the pandemic forced Springsteen to stop touring, he turned from creation to curation and gussied up these seven sets of unreleased songs. Six are full albums abandoned since 1983, plus one compilation (Perfect World). The genre experiment albums are fascinating. Twilight Hours showcases songs close to the SoCal chamber pop of 2019’s Western Stars. Somewhere North of Nashville salutes bar-brawl country stompers. Inyo scrunches its eyes up and dreams of Roy Orbison in a mariachi band, while Faithless thrills with beaten-up blues and raw gospel. None are classics, but there are plenty of enjoyable songs such as Sunday Love, Detail Man, The Lost Charro and My Master’s Hand.

Streets of Philadelphia Sessions is all synths and drum loops, such as its Oscar-winning titular song, the sparse arrangements suiting his soulfully yearning voice. Yet only LA Garage Sessions 83, recorded just before 20m bestseller Born in the USA, breathes the pure fire of Springsteen’s world-class talent at its peak. What burns through all 83 tracks is his flair for storytelling and voice acting, especially in his empathetic portrayals of people flailing amid their own failure, beset by forces they barely understand. Damien Morris

Kevin Abstract

Blush

(Juno/X8 Music)

Three years after the dissolution of his genre-splicing rap collective Brockhampton, Kevin Abstract returns with an album that aims to replicate their unique brand of gonzo creativity. A solo album in theory rather than practice, the 19-track Blush was created with an apparent open door policy, utilising a plethora of creatives ranging from newcomers Abstract scouted in Houston to the likes of Danny Brown, Dominic Fike and various Brockhampton alumni. A handful of songs don’t even feature Abstract at all.

It makes for a curious yet consistently engaging listen, like an excellently considered playlist. Eschewing the guitar-centric sound of 2023’s Blanket, here Abstract dabbles in creeping, lo-fi hip-hop (H-Town), pummelling electronic experimentation (Nola) and, on the likes of Maroon and single Geezer, a ragged, folk-grunge hybrid reminiscent of early Beck. Unlike the latter, increasingly troubled Brockhampton albums, Blush anchors all this restless experimentation with a more focused core, be it on the emotional bite of 97 Jag that features beautiful falsetto from newcomer Love Spells, or the lilting, self-reflective Post Break Up Beauty. Most importantly, it sounds like it was a riot to make. Michael Cragg

Herbert & Momoko

Clay

(Strut)

Matthew Herbert is a producer of many guises. From his late 90s wonky electronic programming as Herbert to his 2010 reworking of Mahler’s 10th Symphony, his recordings of a lifecycle of a farmed pig (2011’s One Pig) and his ongoing avant-jazz Matthew Herbert Big Band project, each new record from the prolific British artist seems to herald a different sound. For his latest project, Clay, he teams up with vocalist and drummer Momoko Gill to deliver some of his most soulful work yet.

Across the album’s 11 tracks, Gill’s sweetly melodic vocal provides a perfect foil for Herbert’s deft and often angular production. Channeling the insouciant phrasing of south-London singer Tirzah, Gill mumbles melodies over the muted drum beats of Need to Run, while on Mowing she soars over rumbling bass and growling synth pads, and on mid-tempo funk number Babystar she trips effortlessly through syncopated rhythms. Herbert, meanwhile, adds depth and texture with unexpected instrumental elements such as the distorted drum loop of Show Me, and More and More’s eerie whispers of vocal samples. It’s an engaging combination, producing a layered debut worth exploring. Ammar Kalia