Scissor Sisters - Magic Hour
- Written by Dannii Leivers
Scissor Sisters are a strange concept. A band that’s always existed outside of time and trends, they first carved their own sparkly niche back in 2004 that captured the mainstream whilst being unabashedly lewd, loud and proud and celebrating sexuality and eccentricity in the glammest of ways.
Their last album, 2010’s Nightwork took the New York group away from the Elton John-aping camp piano stomps that had turned them into megastars, and inspired by the hedonistic gay club scene of Berlin, shit got darker, sleazier and more overtly sexual. It was actually a natural progression for the band and a sound that suited their playful personalities, keeping eyebrows raised and tongues firmly in cheeks, but it sold poorly compared to their first two releases.
Magic Hour then is perhaps a compromise. A way for the Scissor Sisters to straddle the two disparate halves of what they know they do best.
The tracks that follow on from where Nightwork left off are incidentally the most interesting and ‘Lets Have A Kiki’ has the most obvious affiliation with it’s predecessor’s throbbing synthetic electro. Starting with a voicemail message: “I had to put on the wig and the heels and take the train to the club… mother fucker’s touching my ass…”, it builds around a banging, minimal beat that recalls '80s New York house and uses various spoken-word interjections to carry the melody. It’s the only time in their entire back catalogue that Scissor Sister’s don’t sound like Scissor Sisters (partly due to the absence of Jake Shears’ falsetto), however as the song bootie shakes to its climax with cries of “Mother fucker… I’m gonna let you have it…h-h-honey” of course it could only be Scissor Sisters.
Similarly, ‘Keep Your Shoes On’ follows Nightwork’s lead with an almost Latino-esque squelch produced by Boys Noize, while ‘Shady Love’ easily provides Magic Hour’s most head scratching yet brilliant moment. Hooking up with THE woman to go to at the moment, Azealia Banks (under the alias Krystal Pepsy) – the result is a series of demented synth jabs that break down into a euphoric chorus that robs the vocal melody of Banks’ own '212'. A second later though and proceedings have been flipped on their head, Shears’ taking over rapping duties above a compressed fizzy bassline while Banks sings the track home. On a first listen you baulk in horror. After two listens it’s clearly the best and most exciting thing they’ve ever done.
Later the Sisters touch base so to speak with the honky-tonk piano led ‘Baby Come Home’, reminiscent of 2004’s ‘Take Your Mama Out’. It’s catchy enough but a bit of anti-climax when there’s so much more interesting things going on elsewhere. The predictable rave-fest and Calvin Harris collaboration ‘Only the Horses’ is the album’s only real misstep. Typically brash and soul-sucking electro fare, it has Harris’ Capital FM playlist sheen stamped all over it and sucks character and personality out of the song like a leech. Choosing it as a single does seem somewhat calculated… but to hell with it, Scissor Sisters deserve to be number one in every nation so if it takes a horrid song to bring attention to what’s really a very decent album we’ll let them run with it. As far as pop goes these guys are a refreshing antidote to the paint-by-numbers pop rampant in the charts, and quite frankly to be ten years into your career and still able to bring fresh ideas to the table… well that’s pretty special.