Lauren Mayberry has never been big on bullshit. From her earliest breakthrough singles with
CHVRCHES, she wrote with a clarity and poignancy that few indie bands of the time (and even fewer now) would dare to play straight. She also performed with a power and conviction that told you she meant every word of it. She was a gun and she was coming for you whether you were ready or not, so start running. Naturally, this made her both a feminist icon and a bit of a pinup girl. Thus, subsequent albums, tours, and online rows have found her facing more and more unwanted attention and scrutiny. The last CHVRCHES album to date, 2021's
Screen Violence, saw her addressing a lot of it head-on, likening being a female artist to being the lead in a horror movie. Her refusal to blink is one of her most underrated strengths, and it's not hard to see artists like
Chappell Roan following her lead with setting boundaries and suffering no fools.
Nevertheless, the bullshit persists, and Lauren is still putting up the good fight against it on
Vicious Creature, her solo debut. The title is simultaneously assessment, accusation, and actualization as she continues to stand on business, not just against past misogynistic targets but also against her own self-doubt and, well, the business. A recent interview with
Dork revealed how various forms of red tape behind the scenes stunted her motivation and self-confidence while completing the album, and much of the album finds her railing against the industry forces that contributed to it. "It's exhausting trying so hard all the time," she vents on the deceptively perky single "Change Shapes," before turning defiant in the chorus as she charges "It's your game. Now you're mad that I learned the rules." The sentiment is deliciously versatile, applicable to both personal and professional transgressors in her life. Ditto the follow-up shrug of "We're all snakes." Sometimes the best way to fight other people's venom is remembering you have your own.
While the expansion of her songwriting is more subtle and natural, the production around her is pointedly different from her CHVRCHES peaks, calling more overtly on the alternative pop of some of her most unsung influences. Opener "Something In The Air" soars with the cinematic grandeur of
Alanis Morissette, while "Sorry, Etc." conjures the hard breakbeats of
Garbage and harder choruses of
Sleater-Kinney. Best of all is the penultimate "A Work Of Fiction" which finds her embracing the radical softness of
Imogen Heap's production while turning the label of the album title towards the idea of nostalgia. Whether that means nostalgia for a relationship or a career, Mayberry makes it clear that all she sees now is (wait for it) bullshit, and she's ready to move on. This album's hard-earned lessons prove Lauren Mayberry to still be a vicious creature in her own right against such things. If she catches you in her sights, you'd still be advised to run.
Mayberry returns to Union Transfer as a solo artist on February 17th.