Perfume Genius - Put Your Back N 2 It

Let me start off by saying that I'm a little bit biased about this review because I've just booked tickets to see him in May. Is that bias? No I don't think so. Silly Shu. Anyway, the lack of a Wikipedia article may belie the importance and infamy of this, Mike Hadreas' second record - just a month ago he was thrown into controversy when YouTube banned his music video for 'Hood', which depicted the singer in drag and embracing a shirtless gay porn actor, for being 'not family safe'. The same website has allowed Lana del Rey's Born to Die video to go unrestricted, despite depicting a car crash fatality and a topless woman (which, last time I checked, was generally less acceptable by the media than shirtless men). Michael Stipe attacked the decision, and intentional or not, Perfume Genius found himself the poster-boy for the fight against homophobia (for a brief period of January 2012, at least).

Those who were aware of his debut, Learning, however will know that the singer's not afraid of tackling frank issues. Homophobia, abuse (both substance and physical) and suicide have already been poignantly and beautifully dealt with, and it seems strange that they still carry shock value. That Hadreas is blessed with good looks and a handful of heartbreaking piano tunes only exacerbates the melancholy, and whilst for some (those whose idea of musical sadness comes to a halt at Everybody Hurts) the misery might be too much, this is as visceral and beautiful as music can get.


Straight away with 'Awol Marine' a devastatingly beautiful piano melody is thrust upon the listener - and whispery vocals in the background give it an instantly untouchable and hostile vibe, that's really one of Hadreas' strongest and most effective emotional resonances. The track ends with a cluster of distortion that only adds to the uncomfortability. The lyrics to 'Normal Song' then unravel the kind of fragility and bleak optimism that underlines most of his music - "No floating sheet no matter how haunting... can poison your voice or keep you from joy". The tune though is a little too simple or unremarkable, at least compared to other tracks penned. He even grows into defiance on 'No Tear', vowing "I will carry on with grace, zero tears, zero tears on my face", with a a brief but contemplative piano accompaniment (and a deeper background vocal adding to the eeriness). Many have pointed out the tendency for predictable chord progressions in Hadreas' songs, and that's certainly a valid point concerning '17', but it's the background that refreshes it. Quiet explosions and cries give it a heightened emotional impact.

There're other musical influences though than pure Einaudi/Richter blues: a distinctly Motown percussion tune sets the scene in 'Take Me Home' (an influence that later largely dominates Hood). There's certainly more attention given to the atmospherics - a strange celestial quality emerges in 'Dirge'. Lyrically it's a highlight too, "Sing whatever songs are sung/ Wind whatever wreath/ For a playmate perished young/ For a spirit who's spent in death", and the quiet sobs and sighs in the background help accentuate the emotion. There's an irritating familiarity about 'Dark Parts' and its piano tune, and others have said Sufjan Stevens and I think that might be right but I'm not sure which song and that's annoying and where did my sentence structure go? Anyway, 'All Waters' then introduces itself with a synth of quite considerable gravitas, considerable enough to make me accidentally close the tab, and my instant thought was 'Who Wants to Live Forever?' Here, though, Hadreas longs for the confidence to display public shows of affection ("When I can take your hand/ on any crowded street"), and touches upon a kind of internal homosexual anxiety.

Then the single 'Hood' kicks off with a deceptively chipper tune, but contains the most obvious signs of internal anguish - "Underneath this hood you kiss, I tick like a bomb" - and the way this frenzied tune crashes into the minimal 'Put Your Back N 2 It' is quite interesting, as though displaying a kind of musical bipolar disorder. The latter track has, again, cute pianos and disoriented background noise - like the comedowns of M83's most recent album. An actual beat then appears, as subtle as it is, on 'Floating Spit', and gives the track an instant embossing (although considering its suicidal themes - "The other side is opening now" - that might not be necessary). Instant favourite. The album closes, though, with 'Sister Song', and its childlike piano melody again beautifully accompanying a poignant message - this time saying goodbye to someone until they "finally come home".


More often than not on this record the lyrics hint at problems rather than bluntly retell them, as on the debut record's Mr. Peterson. That more attention has been given to the atmospherics and the production of the record is a masterstroke, as it's effectively crossed out every negative I held about Learning (and trust me, there weren't many). The only thing I would say though is that a couple of the tracks bring nothing outstanding to the table - oh, and I'd recommend that you have alcohol or some other form of comfort on standby.

Rating: 9.5/10
Highlights: Awol Machine, 17, Dark Parts, Sister Song, Floating Spit, Hood
Avoid: n/a

Artwork Watch: Looks like class 3N have been at the trophy cabinet with the papier maché again.