Florence Welch’s alternative rock/pop group, Florence + The Machine, recently released their sixth studio album titled “Everybody Scream,” a 12-track, 49-minute collection of pure cathartic rage. Stemming from and seeded in Welch’s personal experience with her physical and mental wounds following a miscarriage and the relation of this tragedy with northern European folklore and horror, the album is visceral, haunting and chock-full of angst and rage.
This work marks a shift in the band’s general focus and artistic priorities. One of the group’s most prominent collaborations of late entailed a track with Taylor Swift on her “Tortured Poets Department” album, a strange, neogothic song of the Lana Del Rey-esque genre, reflecting on the “beauty” of the state of Florida. Fans like myself were left more confused than delighted by the song, so I, for one, am glad Florence + The Machine has returned to their own musical style.
“Everybody Scream” brings the band back to its familiar, much-cherished sound of heavy drums and impassioned vocals. Though every song deserves a listen, a few stand out further than the rest.
“Buckle”
Despite Welch’s overall commitment to the theme of rage expression and feminine autonomy in this album, Welch channels her inner Julia Roberts of “Notting Hill” in “Buckle.” Believe it or not, she just wants to be loved, too. With the soft strum of an acoustic guitar and a faint symphony of backing vocals, Welch delivers a quietly heart-wrenching reflection on the tragedy of unrequited love. With painfully relevant and certainly relatable subject matter, this track is sure to contribute even further to the sad spiral of a hopeless romantic’s woes come Valentine’s Day.
“Kraken”
In “Kraken,” Welch finally comes to terms with fame. In interviews, she has noted that she finds fame strange and does not relish being the center of attention. This is not the case anymore. In this song, she personifies the Scandinavian folklore monster, the Kraken, presenting strength and resistance to anyone who dares call themselves a hater. She further develops this concept with sharp, hasty vocals and a punchy backing beat. In “Kraken,” Welch maintains her identity as a force of nature.
“Music by Men”
A darkly somber and lyrically ballad-like song, “Music by Men,” explores Welch’s frustration with modern dating. Her voice is ominously soft, a sharp contrast from her usual sharp-sounding vocals, and this works immensely to the song’s advantage. Welch is tired, and she wants you to know it. But who can blame her? I mean, when the current state of dating is so poor that it’s now a trend to be single, wouldn’t you be tired too?
“You Can Have It All”
Contrary to what the title suggests, Welch delivers a sharp rebuke of the harmful, yet oft-delivered message that because women can do it all — be a mother, have a career, get married — they must. She despises such a notion and through a languid building of tension with a staccato piano beat and soft shouts emanating from almost imperceptible voices in the background, Welch explodes in the last minute of the song, the pinnacle of her rage and a rendering of the album’s title, “Everybody Scream.” In this masterfully thunderous song, Welch surmises that perhaps you can have it all, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you should.
”Everybody Scream” is a powerful and evocative collection of songs centered on the daily exhaustion and frustration of modern women in a largely male-dominated society. A painful, yet necessary representation of contemporary feminism and the persistence of gender roles, this album is sure to remain relevant for years to come.
