ST. VINCENT – Marry Me (2007) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

With experience playing with the Polyphonic Spree, Sufjan Stevens, and Glenn Branca, Annie Clark is more than qualified enough to start writing her own loosely ornate, lush pop songs. But while Clark, who chooses to use the name St. Vincent here, does incorporate the frilly strings and horns, background choirs, and various keyboards (most of which she plays) of her past employers in Marry Me, her solo debut, she also has an edge to her -- something that shows up in the distorted electric guitar solos of "Jesus Saves, I Spend" or "Now, Now," the drums in the ominous "The Apocalypse Song" or "Your Lips Are Red," the growing intensity of the vocals "Landmines," the funereal waltz of the fantastic "Paris Is Burning" ("I write to give the war is over/Send my cinders home to mother," Clark sings sadly over electronic drumbeats and acoustic guitars) -- that pushes her away from the overly sentimental and quaint. Not that Marry Me doesn't have its fair share of happy love songs ("All My Stars Aligned," "What Me Worry?"), but the album isn't seeped in that kind of joyfulness that sings blind and insincere. It's an mix of good and bad, of light and dark, of the woman who purposefully sets up the obstacles she must get through to find her lover ("I'm crawling through landmines/I know 'cause I planted them," she sings disarmingly), of sweet self-deprecation ("Marry me, John, I'll be so good to you/You won't realize I'm gone"), honest and quirky and totally enticing. Clark is young enough that she's still able to retain that sense of wonder about the world without seeming naïve, and old enough that she can say things like "My hands are red from sealing your red lips" and you believe her. It's an orchestral record for those who prefer the simplistic, a darker one for those who prefer theirs twee, love songs for the scorned and sad songs for the content, an engaging and alluring combination that makes Marry Me nearly irresistible, and one of the better indie pop albums that's come around for a long time. Marisa Brown  Tracklist + Credits :
 

ST. VINCENT – Actor (2009) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

St. Vincent's Annie Clark is a unique talent; she's as much a musician as she is a songwriter, and both her sounds and her words are delicately uncompromising. She blends rock, jazz, electronic, and classical touches together so seamlessly that it doesn't seem remarkable, and as lovely as her voice and music can be, she's too strange and too smart to be merely winsome. Marry Me was as bold as its title proposal suggested, uniting her sardonic, whip-smart viewpoint and jaunty music into songs with beacon-like clarity. Things are murkier, but no less fascinating, on Actor, Marry Me's darker and more ambitious follow-up. Musically and lyrically, the album often feels like a duel (and occasionally, a duet) between Clark's collected, literate side and her raging emotions. This is especially striking on Actor's arrangements and instrumentation, which are even more expressive than they were on Marry Me. "The Strangers" opens the album with choral vocals, woodwinds, and typically charming/unsettling lyrics: "Desperate doesn't look good on you/Neither does your virtue." But before things get too dainty, massively distorted guitar and drums let out the fury that's been brewing in the song the entire time (later, "The Bed" offers an even sharper contrast between innocence and violence). "Marrow" is just as startling, switching from pretty to abrasive and back again with a swiftness that's surprising, even knowing how fond Clark is of turning her songs on their sides. She also loves couching uncomfortable moments in sweet sounds and vice versa, so it's no surprise that Actor's poppiest songs are its most disturbing. On the album's single, the forceful rocker "Actor Out of Work," she pulls in and levels a lover in just over two minutes, beginning with alluring "oohs" and then twisting the knife with putdowns like "You're the curses through my teeth" -- the song's brisk dance between hot and cold is dazzling. Likewise, "Laughing with a Mouth of Blood" pairs the album's most gruesome song title with one of its most honeyed melodies. As brilliantly as Clark uses these contrasts, at times they threaten to overpower Actor's songs, and the slightly more straightforward, Marry Me-like tracks such as "Save Me from What I Want" and "The Party" help balance the album with some breathing space. Similarly, while the album's elaborately layered sounds are engrossing, they tend to overshadow Clark's equally thoughtful lyrics at first -- although when she sings "Tomorrow's some kind of stranger who I'm not supposed to see" on "The Neighbors," it's with more palpable emotion than anything she sang on Marry Me. "The Sequel" ends Actor on a fittingly uneasy, open-ended note, given all the complexities that came before it. This is some of St. Vincent's most complicated music, but its fearless creativity rewards repeated listening, as Clark has few rivals when it comes to seducing ears and challenging minds at the same time. Heather Phares     Tracklist + Credits :

ST. VINCENT – Strange Mercy (2011) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

As clever and insightful as Annie Clark's first two St. Vincent albums were, she sometimes seemed slightly removed, and perhaps somewhat above, her songs’ subjects. However, she’s down and dirty with them on Strange Mercy, a collection of cracked veneers, eye-level confessions, and portraits of breaking points. It’s tempting to call this her most genuine album, but it’s probably more accurate to say it’s Clark's least academic-feeling set of songs. Contrast has always been a major part of her music, and Strange Mercy's juxtapositions of harshness, softness, truth, lies, cruelty, and kindness feel especially pointed and potent. Most apparent is her use of opposing sounds; working with producer John Congleton, she focuses on luxurious strings and woodwinds that float above wobbly keyboards and ugly, distorted guitars that emphasize that these songs are under pressure. Clark finds plenty of range within this palette, though, busting out the talkbox on “Neutered Fruit”’s confrontational jazz-rock and a dance-pop beat on the subtly frantic “Hysterical Strength.” Less obvious are the emotional shifts many of these songs undergo, and how they blur the album’s contrasts. On the title track, Clark goes from vulnerable to protective to violent as she sings “I’ll tell you good news that I don’t believe/If it will help you sleep,” and on “Champagne Year,” she confesses and deceives at the same time. “Cruel” is Strange Mercy's definitive track, putting inspired lyrics like “They could take or leave you/So they took you then they left you” atop strings and woodwinds straight from a vintage musical and a messed-up, fuzzed-out guitar solo. The song gets increasingly anxious as it closes, a pattern Clark repeats throughout the album; indeed, while these songs are some of her most fragmented, each song on Strange Mercy is tied to another. “Surgeon” shares a stuttering beat with opening track “Chloe in the Afternoon” and a similar melody to the declaration of independence that is “Cheerleader.” There’s so much going on musically on Strange Mercy that it could be easy to overlook Clark's growth as a songwriter, but “Year of the Tiger” boasts fully realized storytelling as well as a melody that would do Joni Mitchell or Carole King proud. Full of great lyrics and great playing, Strange Mercy is St. Vincent's most reflective and most audacious album to date, and Clark remains as delicately uncompromising an artist as ever. Heather Phares              Tracklist + Credits :
 

DAVID BYRNE & ST. VINCENT – Love This Giant (2012) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

It's not surprising that David Byrne and St. Vincent's Annie Clark were drawn to work together. While they're hardly sound-alikes, they are both keen but somewhat detached observers of the human condition who make music that's equally cerebral and passionate. However, it is somewhat surprising to learn that they created their collaboration Love This Giant largely online, meeting in the studio together with their team of musicians and producers a handful of times during the album's three-year gestation period, because they're on such a harmonious wavelength throughout it. Though the album's brass-driven sound suggests Byrne's post-Talking Heads work more than St. Vincent's guitar acrobatics (Clark fans may be disappointed that her playing is relegated to the sidelines here, albeit artfully so), it was actually Clark's idea to write these songs for a brass band when the project began as a handful of songs the duo was going to perform in a bookstore. At any rate, trying to dissect the collaboration's inner workings is beside the point when the whole is this dazzlingly creative. While Love This Giant might not be a true concept album, Byrne and Clark explore the themes of individuality, community, love, and death with a thoroughness and cohesiveness that suggests otherwise, and together they push each other into creative spaces they might not have explored on their own. Clark takes a funky turn on "Weekend in the Dust," where her singing mirrors the angular brass stabs behind her as beats whirr and tick like wind-up toys, and delivers some of her most vulnerable vocals on the expansive "Optimist," one of the most unabashed love songs to New York's potential since "Empire State of Mind." However, it's Byrne who sounds most revitalized by all the creativity flowing through Love This Giant, whether on the jaunty album opener "Who," the whimsical character study "I Am an Ape," or the celebratory "The One Who Broke Your Heart," which drafts the Dap-Kings and Antibalas to help him and Clark dance on their troubles. The album peaks with back-to-back highlights from the duo: "The Forest Awakes" lets Clark unleash her formidable fretwork over a relentlessly marching beat and strings and woodwinds, suggesting a particularly audacious St. Vincent track, while "I Should Watch TV" sets classic Byrne observations ("How are you?"/"Not like me") to alternately jarring and jubilant brass. For all the braininess and wildness on display, there's also a sweetness to the album, particularly on "Outside of Space and Time," which sings the praises of physics-defying devotion. Given all the things Byrne and Clark pack into Love This Giant, it's a remarkably catchy and concise set of songs featuring some of the most vibrant work that either one of them has produced. Heather Phares   Tracklist + Credits :
 

ST. VINCENT – St. Vincent (2014) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

Annie Clark began recording St. Vincent almost immediately after she finished touring in support of Love This Giant, her inspired collaboration with David Byrne. It's not hard to hear the influence that album had on these songs: Love This Giant's literal and figurative brassiness gave Clark's witty yet thoughtful approach more sass without sacrificing any of her intelligence. Similarly, while St. Vincent is some of her most pop-oriented work, it doesn't dilute the essence of her music. If anything, her razor-sharp wit is even more potent when polished in a candy coating with just a hint of venom. This is especially true of the album's singles: on "Digital Witness," one of the songs with the closest kinship to her "Love This Giant" work, she juxtaposes pointed commentary ("If you can't see me/What's the point of doing anything?") with Valley Girl "yeah"s in a trenchant expression of the 21st century's constant oversharing and need for validation. This somewhat frantic undercurrent bubbles to the surface on "Birth in Reverse," one of Clark's most immediately winning singles since "Actor Out of Work," and one that makes retreat seem nearly as exciting as revolution. Here and throughout the album, Clark and longtime producer John Congleton use their signature, proudly artificial sound to highlight her direct storytelling, whether it's the way "I Prefer Your Love"'s trip-hoppy sheen lets the declaration "I prefer your love to Jesus" ring out more boldly or the way Clark sings "I'm afraid of you because I can't be left behind" gives the lie to her brash guitar playing on "Regret." As on Strange Mercy, Clark explores strength and vulnerability in ever more masterful, and approachable, ways. Not every song may be as literally autobiographical as "Rattlesnake," which was inspired by a secluded walk in the desert in the altogether. Yet there's more than a kernel of emotional truth to "Prince Johnny," where Clark's character ends up even more exposed thanks to some songwriting sleight-of-hand. The hallucinatory, funky "Huey Newton" and the decaying power ballad "Severed Crossed Fingers" show off not just Clark's musical range, but just how eloquently she blends passion and precision. And, as her most satisfying, artful, and accessible album yet, St. Vincent earns its title. Heather Phares      Tracklist + Credits :

ST. VINCENT – Masseduction (2017) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

If Masseduction is any indication, the success St. Vincent's Annie Clark had with her self-titled breakthrough album -- which included a Grammy for Best Alternative Album, playing with Nirvana at their induction to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and a long-running, electrifying tour -- almost led to a breakdown. Fortunately, for an artist as keenly observant as Clark, personal chaos counts as field research, and on her fifth album she weaponizes the trappings of her acclaim. Working with an in-demand producer (Bleachers' Jack Antonoff, who has also shaped sounds for Lorde and Taylor Swift) and all-star collaborators including Kamasi Washington, Jenny Lewis, and Mike Elizondo, on Masseduction she creates a pop version of St. Vincent that's bigger and shinier -- but definitely not simpler. In its own way, it's just as complex as her previous album, and as its sound gets more lurid and massive, its songs get more revealing and anxious. "Hang on Me," which begins the album by comparing a relationship to a plane crash, is the first of many songs to go down in flames. On the title track, Clark sounds increasingly unhinged as she repeats the album's mission statement -- "I can't turn off what turns me on" -- over gleaming synths, outlandish guitars, and barely human harmonies. Here and on the deceptively sleek "Sugarboy," where she describes herself as "a casualty hanging from the balcony," she crafts potent cocktails of desire and destruction. Clark also transcends the familiarity of Masseduction's tropes just as skillfully as she subverts pop music's conventions. The perky irony of "Pills"' ode to pharmaceuticals could be clichéd if its speedy verses weren't followed by a narcotized coda featuring Washington's woozily beautiful saxophone. Similarly, Clark finds new wrinkles on sexuality and boundaries on the Prince-ly "Savior" and injects new life into the tale of a partner's OD on "Young Lover," hitting wailing high notes that are equally fantastical and desperate. These cracking veneers allow more glimpses of real feeling than ever before in St. Vincent's music, most strikingly on "Happy Birthday, Johnny," a throwback to Marry Me's piano pop that finds a longtime friend calling Clark a sellout, and "New York," a farewell to a changing town and changing relationships. Even the glossy satire of "Los Ageless" is punctuated by whispered confessions ("I try to write you a love song but it comes out a lament") and limpid steel guitar that melts the rigidity of its beats, a motif that runs through the album. As it closes with "Slow Disco"'s bittersweet knowledge that it's time to leave "the bay of mistakes" and the glowering self-destruction of "Smoking Section," Masseduction delivers sketches of chaos with stunning clarity. It's the work of an always savvy artist at her wittiest and saddest. Heather Phares           Tracklist + Credits :

ST. VINCENT – MassEducation (2018) Vinyl | FLAC (tracks), lossless

Even as her albums and concerts become more ambitious, St. Vincent's Annie Clark wouldn't be anywhere without the fundamentals she reminds listeners of with MassEducation. Recorded over a couple of evenings during MASSEDUCTION's mixing sessions, on the album Clark and pianist Thomas Bartlett strip down the album's songs to reveal new layers of closeness and distance, sincerity and artifice. It's a given that ballads like "Slow Disco," "Happy Birthday, Johnny," and "New York" sound as good, if not better, here than they did with MASSEDUCTION's glossy, intricate productions, but MassEducation is arguably most interesting when Clark reinvents the album's most synthetic-sounding pop songs. "Los Ageless" finds new life as a slinky torch ballad, while "Sugarboy" sounds even more reckless without a drumbeat holding it down. Clark and Bartlett get especially creative with the arrangements on "Pills," which shift from a nagging, rumbling low end to fizzy, high arpeggios, and "Savior," where Bartlett's rippling playing unleashes the song's pathos as much as Clark's singing. Her voice rightfully takes center stage on MassEducation in a way it couldn't on MASSEDUCTION, and it's a treat to hear her unadorned, muscular soprano on "Young Lover" and the brief, dazzling reinterpretation of "Fear the Future." Occasionally, MassEducation borders on being too stark for its own good, but the songs hold their power in this unvarnished setting. Heather Phares         Tracklist + Credits :

ST. VINCENT – Daddy's Home (2021) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

Starting with St. Vincent's self-titled 2014 album, Annie Clark's artistic progression could be best described as a sharpening: Her sounds grew crisper and more angular, her lyrics ever more pointed. This approach peaked on MASSEDUCTION, which reflected a white-knuckle grip on image and identity in its high-definition pop. Control, or lack of it, is also a vital element on Daddy's Home. Using her father's return from jail for white-collar crime as a jumping-off point, Clark explores moral grey areas on songs that are as diffuse as her past few albums were taut. Her musical world-building remains as impressive as ever: Drawing on early-'70s sounds introduced to her by her father, she pays homage to a more permissive time as she traces the best and worst things carried through the generations. Clark's version of the '70s is filled with so many allusions it should have footnotes; alongside the bubbling Wurlitzers and Mellotrons, she name-drops John Cassavetes and Candy Darling. While the swaggering single "Pay Your Way in Pain" pays homage to David Bowie's "Fame" and "Live in the Dream" is a swirling tribute to Pink Floyd, not all the references are cooler than cool. On "My Baby Wants a Baby," which finds the song's protagonist admitting they want creative accomplishment more than a child, Clark borrows the melody from Sheena Easton's "9 to 5 (Morning Train)" (another song about the obligations of relationships) and a spangly sitar-mimicking guitar last heard on a B.J. Thomas single.

Hearing Clark try on the album's bell bottoms and leather vest vibe is entertaining, but though the musical lineage of Daddy's Home may be clearer than on any of her previous work, the same can't be said of its lyrics. With the notable exception of "Somebody Like Me"'s vulnerability, Clark's songwriting remains emotion-adjacent instead of directly confessional. She delivers the album's tenderest songs in the second person ("...At the Holiday Party'') or to long-gone icons ("Candy Darling"). On the wry title track, she brings a little levity to the situation while pondering its deeper ramifications ("Where can you run when the outlaw's inside you?"), continuing the concealing and revealing at which she's always excelled. Clark also revisits her own artistic past as well as her musical and familial influences. She's not mellowing with age -- "Down"'s brittle revenge-funk proves otherwise -- but the album is defined by its introspective tracks like "The Melting of the Sun"'s slow-motion tribute to female truth-tellers like Joan Didion, Marilyn Monroe, Nina Simone, and Tori Amos that also features some of Clark's most inspired guitar playing, and "The Laughing Man," a sardonic ballad that recalls Actor's Disneyfied dystopian reveries. Like the albums of the era it was inspired by, Daddy's Home takes time to unfold in listeners' imaginations. It's much more of a mood than anything else in her body of work, but its hazy reconciliation of the good and bad of the past makes it as an uncompromising statement from her as ever. Heather Phares        Tracklist + Credits :

ST. VINCENT – The Nowhere Inn (Official Soundtrack) (2021) FLAC (tracks), lossless

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