Hands
Time to play catch-up, America! Hands, the debut album by Little Boots (25 year old British singer/songwriter/musician Victoria Hesketh) drops stateside nine long months after emerging overseas. Sometimes the old cliche rings true; in this case, good things do come to those who wait. Sounding like nothing less than a Kylie Minogue-fronted Human League (note - this is a very good thing indeed), Little Boots has crammed a dozen electropop gems onto "Hands." Impressively, in the span of just two short years she has gone from amateur Youtuber (gaining an early following from her charming videos of cover tunes performed literally in her bedroom) to leader of the latest Brit-synth revival.
Hands really has that old-school early 80’s electronic feel to it - with nary a guitar to be found, these synthesizers bleep, fizz, pound, and squeal just like you remember. Of course, with the best electronic music there beats a human pulse underneath all that buzzing, and Little Boots’ heart is ever present. She’s rather obsessed with them, as most of the album’s songs invoke hearts and their affairs. Quite simply, in the infectious "Remedy," the cure for lovesickness is obvious..."dancing is my remedy, remedy." Well, duh!
Several of the tracks on Hands have already been released as singles, and these are among the album’s highlights. "Stuck on Repeat" utilizes the classically hypnotic Giorgio Moroder meets Kraftwerk sound and weds it to fitting lyrics ("You got me stuck on repeat. I can only move to the beat."). "Meddle" stomps along aggressively, while "New in Town" is a sassy declaration of intent to a cautious follower. No use resisting when you get an invitation to "go out tonight" from a charmer like L Boots!
Cementing her electro credentials, Little Boots duets with the mighty Phil Oakey (of the Human League, but you already knew that) on "Symmetry," a jam which might well have been cryogenically frozen in 1981 and beamed forth into 2010. It just doesn’t get any better for us synth-heads.
Hands flags a wee bit towards the end, with several pretty but colorless electroballads which probably should have been left with Ms Minogue’s producers for Kylie’s next recording session. After a long gap of silence the hidden title track to Hands starts up, and it’s (shockingly) a stark piano and voice ballad. The tale of a girl with (what else?) a broken heart whom no one could help, but in the end fixed things up with her own hands, Hands might well be the perfect coda to this album. After forty five minutes of synthetic cool, the warmth from that human pulse could thaw even this robot’s heart.
by Little Boots
