Four years and three albums into her career as St. Vincent, Annie Clark is inching ever closer to being a household name. An indie darling out of the gate with a resume that included time spent with Sufjan and The Polyphonic Spree, she has patiently perfected a uniquely challenging yet inviting sound that makes her both recognizable and intriguing to the casual listener. Kate Bush has proven an apt if easy touchstone for comparison, odds and anticipation have primed Strange Mercy to be St. Vincent's Hounds of Love. It's debatable whether that's actually the case. This album marks more of a lateral progression from what came before than some big step forward. That said, Clark continues to move a skillfully and gracefully as ever, no matter the direction.
Less stormy than its immediate predecessor, Mercy finds St. Vincent smoothing out that record's rough edges and occasionally jarring sonic outbursts with waves of deceptively warm electronics and more mercurial tempo changes. Her guitar still plays a prominent role in songs, but it sounds more content to ride the wave of the melody rather than crash into it. Take current single "Cruel," which takes a full two minutes or so before we even get the first sign of a shred. Even then, it seems to wedge itself politely into synch with the instrumentation around it. "Surgeon" may be even better. Starting like so many St. Vincent songs past with washes of unsettlingly woozy choral sighs, it lets the guitar take lead in the chorus and crescendo only to show off a surprisingly funky bent, winding into itself as the drums and keys whir themselves into a frenzy to make sense of it. The slight tension is palpable and irresistible.
As always, Clark fills her songs with barbed wit delivered in honeyed tones. The aforementioned "Surgeon" compares sex to surgery (specifically the cutting open part) while album highlight "Cheerleader" expresses a desire to break free from conformity, to be more than the titular side player in her relationships. Other peak examples of both her vocal prowess and musical virtuosity include the subtly seething title track and the punch-drunk, Asian-leaning closer "Year of the Tiger."
Of course there is plenty more to listen to and love, but why spoil it all here? Again, whether Strange Mercy will be the album people still laud St. Vincent for years from now remains to be seen. It's almost more exciting to consider that it isn't if these are the stops we get to make along the way to get to it.
Catch St. Vincent when she plays Union Transferon November 2nd.