On the morning of 10th January 2016, I woke up alone in a 12-bed hostel dorm in Prague. By the time I’d stumbled downstairs to breakfast, I already knew why there was nothing but David Bowie playing on the stereo. It seemed like the young year had slumped to an early, heartbreaking nadir. I didn’t know then that it was just the tip of a nosedive, that the whole world was due a relentless live stream of hatred, disappointment, fear, anger, betrayal. That it would be a capitulation.
I know, I know: in 2016, we lost.
It would be sentimental to assume that the rest of the year’s artistic output mirrored that sadness – each season bears its more or less equal share of mischief and melancholy – but perhaps those writers and storytellers who worked in shades of black found an audience who, for a long time, could see nothing else. Even Kanye put out an album riddled with prayer, paranoia, and self-doubt. Even Kanye, this year.
“Are we cool?” she asks as the title track cascades to a close, and it’s not yet clear who’s doing the asking: is the song’s protagonist checking in with her new lover, or is Martina Solbara questioning Dragonette’s status in 2016? Like fellow Canadians Tegan & Sara, they’ve carved out a niche in modern electro pop by setting tales of romantic uncertainty to dizzying synth hooks, a style that manages to be retro (“Lonely Heart” and its cod reggae, Ace of Base feel) while also unmistakably modern (“Body 2 Body” and its “Sorry” tropical house keyboard presets). By the end of Royal Blues, their fourth album, it’s not entirely clear what kind of cool the band are chasing.
Matthew Neale 