MS MR - Secondhand Rapture

MS MR come at an unfortunate time: if there is one thing the world does not need, right now, it is boy-girl electronic synth-pop duos with a penchant for theatricality and glitter. It would appear that, given current music's unpredictable stream of trends and the difficulty in gauging what's current and hot, even their style, which is largely contemporary and very recently everywhere, has passed the buck onto post-the xx moodiness and minimalist dub-electronic music.

That hasn't discouraged Lizzy Plapinger and Max Hershenow, this particular New York duo. They've picked up all sorts of TV promos with songs used in adverts for Game of Thrones, Greys' Anatomy and Pretty Little Liars, and if there's anything recent times can teach us, it's that adverts will grab you #1s. It might not have happened yet for MS MR (and that name will only grow in annoying me - ooh there's a boy and a girl! clever! I think not.) but it's certainly put them on the map, and that's probably a coup in itself.

As most hurried debuts off the back of a minor hit or two do, the album kicks off with said hits: 'Hurricane' and 'Bones' are clearly the strongest two tracks on display, full of Woodkid-like orchestral pomp and deathly, spiritual lyrics ("empty churches with soulless curses", Plapinger pouts, as though that by default conjures an Edgar Allen Poe world in the listener's head). Plapinger's voice is relatively nondescript, too; a little on the coy and breathy side, but not enough that it's distinctive. Their greatest strength, really, is their production: the piano hooks on 'Ash Tree Lane' are so subtle that you'd be forgiven for missing them behind their shiny brass choruses and thudding array of drums. It's hard not to compare them to Florence Welch's ear for catchy pop music refurbished with harps and bacchanalia. "This world is gonna burn", she coos over her own take on jazz scat, 'Dark Doo Wop', whilst 'Fantasy' boasts the album's greatest pop song.

Sadly, it only goes downhill from that first half. A sort-of hillbilly seance takes place on 'Head is Not My Home', an unplaceable mishmash of musical influences that never quite forms something sensical. Think KT Tunstall fucking around with a sitar. Then there's a dash of reggae on 'Salty Sweet', with its lo-fi crackle and hand-clapping, musing on the fleeting nature of pop ("we fear rejection, prize attention, crave affection"). It's got an intriguing air of Alice in Wonderland about it but that was probably the intention (you can almost picture the music video, with black and white tiled floors and little "eat me" signs). Lyrically they stumble often: 'Think of You' contains the ill-thought grandiosities "decadence of decay" and "you only give loveless lust". 'Twenty Seven' would appear to be built around the desire to avoid becoming a member of the 27 Club, but I fear that may be an accident.

Towards the end of the album they regain some of that romantic-pop arrangement and it's a welcome return: 'BTSK' (big teeth small kiss?!) ebbs and flows with appropriate heart-swelling. Which does rather disguise some of the most awkward sexual lyrics I've ever seen ("teeth on my waist, I come undone"). 'No Trace' really does follow the exact same formula as the rest of the album's shots at epicness, and despite its lack of originality, is a strong example of MS MR's identity. There's then the obligatory "we've just done an album of dark stuff so let's end on a pretty song" moment with 'This Isn't Control'.

As a debut album it ultimately fails entirely in carving anything unique or engaging for MS MR to remain anything more than a fleeting pleasantry. The music's by no means unaccomplished; if anything, there are some great songs here. Yet they are surrounded by so much blandness and indifference that I just struggle to see a future for them, and it's that absence of presence that leaves me wanting more.

Rating: 5/10
Highlights: Hurricane; Bones; Fantasy; Ash Tree Lane; No Trace
Avoid: Salty Sweet; Think of You; Head is Not My Home

Artwork Watch: Aftermath of Florence + the Machine's second album going to #1, and the celebration that ensued.
For fans of: Niki + the Dove; all other (name + the thing) bands.
Up next: Savages