Empress Of has shared "Woman Is a Word" as a b-side to last year’s excellent Me. Here producer Lorely Rodríguez hits all the thematic checkpoints from her debut, blending personal lyrics with tantalizing self-actualized pop. Listening it is hard to understand how the song didn’t make it to the album’s final tracklist.
"I’m only a woman if woman is a word," sings Rodríguez as a clattering rhythm announces her arrival. The track wants to outsize labels that can be limiting or even damaging. Writer Julianne Escobedo Shepherd put it best when she pointed to the song's “internal struggle of proving you’re not a cookie cut-out of some stereotype, nor that you are hindered by your gender.” Empress Of calms her frustration painting with synths. Broad strokes fill the canvas with florid washes. They sustain her to the end, until there is a near ceremonious swing to the beats. As ornate as a Baroque dance, but completely liberated.
Me, Empress Of Terrible Records, USA Rating: 87 by Sam Rodgers
Two years ago, with a swatch of colors, Empress Of - a moniker with the mystique of a 'Lorde' or a 'Lana Del Rey' or a 'Kali Mutsa' - released fifteen snatches of ideas for beats and harmonies, with some bursts of melodic inspiration. Lorely Rodriguez's generosity, whether intended as a stepping stone or tentative first step, gave those of us paying attention a grab of an exciting new voice, one that we'd soon learn was producing everything herself. With Color #10, you get an insight into Rodriguez's latin@ roots - a California-raised, Honduran-American, now based in New York. For the most part, her identity mirrors a lot of the Fonograma staff, and for this reason, we're claiming her; though she is definitely set to be watched by a vaster, more global audience sooner rather than later, with the release of her first LP, Me.
The first and, perhaps best, revelation on Me is that Rodriguez's vocals are now front and centre, an assured decision, and logical considering the album's title. However, unlike the previously mentioned masked singers, Rodriguez's voice swings between the bark of your best friend shouting at you from the swimming pool to eery-chanteuse-flexing-scales in a heartbeat: there's little pretense to it. Given the costume of 'Empress Of', it's the lyrics of Me that save the project from residing in the pile of 'just another...' (while we're using sentence fragments as nouns). Rodriguez thrusts her journal into your hands and says, "I'm going to sing this to you", and starts without permission. But this is a carefully considered journal: lyrically, Rodriguez knows exactly how much she needs to obfuscate, retain, and push forward. The anatomy of a pop song centers around a basic theme, but better still, a signifier that presents each track as a stand alone: something Javiera Mena continues refining in an alternative technicolor world. Me, on the other hand, is much more monochromatic, like its cover photo; much more tactile, too. You're still holding onto the newest per(sonal)-zine by Empress Of, the photocopier ink fresh and warm. It's just that now her aesthetic stands apart. (Note how un-flashy Rodriguez presents herself on the cover, but how her pose is calculating and observational all the same. A different type of power.)
What makes Me so conspicuous is its very contemporary take on relationship navigation: we're now in a post-casual-sex-happens-get-over-it world; we're in a post-Beyonce-is-also-a-Feminist world; we're in a post-another-article-about-how-selfies-are-narcissistic world. Me operates for those who've done the reading but know how messy life in 2015 really is: to choose not to be seen results in just as much isolation as presenting your best self at all times. The latter, the nature of social media, has also bred something not often broached in danceable pop outside of hip hop: class and money. Rodriguez targets these in two of the best tracks of the album, the arresting first single "Water Water", and one of the best tracks of the year so far, "Standard". Using potable water to signify privilege, we get a dirty dance track inspired by actual thirst whilst writing the album alone in small-town Mexico. On "Standard", the listener gets a clearer picture of Rodriguez's anguish. Here, she's addressing a trust fund love interest, with torch-song melodies and great, incisive lyrics, hitting bullseye after bullseye: "I've been living below the standard / while you struggle being home and bored"; "Tell me what you see / in the mirror when you're feeling restless / Do you see a man who isn't there? / Living for the sake of living / I can promise you no one cares."
Elsewhere on the album, Rodriguez nails the frustration of being cat-called in the street with "Kitty Kat", a stomping declaration of independence and intolerance of double-standards: "Don't take me by the hand and walk me through with pity / If I was a man would you still do the same?" But this is just one moment in a life - on other tracks, Rodriguez allows us to hear her vulnerability through co-dependence: whether on human contact or human escape. On "Need Myself" she meditates on balancing one's own identity within a relationship "to be happy with you" - like Björk's rumination on the edge of a mountain in "Hyperballad." Sonically, Me shares an experimental pop edge like the Icelandic artist's first solo albums, never losing sight of its digestibility. What makes this album more remarkable, though, is Rodriguez's claim that making the album was purely instinctual. To do it all oneself, and to then put yourself as the main subject matter without older professionals helping you edit that down to a listenable whole, is no mean feat. The fact that Empress Of made it to this stage without even commenting on this laborious process within the album is testament to her tenacity and understanding that non-artists don't 'get' what's on the other side of a shining piece of pop. She touches on it in the video for "How Do You Do It"(all backstage and touring footage) and much more obliquely in the closing track "Icon" where the lyrics about the absent, heart-curdling feeling fresh from a break up mirrors the intense isolation an artist feels when no one's there appreciating the work: "Every minute passes like an hour / When I'm just in the room with the lights on / And there's no one who knows I'm their icon." Luckily for Rodriguez, there's sure to be worshippers at the Empress Of alter soon enough.
We are just a little over a week from the release of Empress Of's long-awaited debut album, Me. Newest single and video acts almost as a reference to the gestation of the project: "How Do You Do It." Not a question here, but an interjection in disbelief.
Lorely Rodriguez uses the statement to flip between first and third person while delivering her catchiest, most colorful pop to date. Maybe it's how the chorus is backed up with lines that encourage a sashay moment ("Like this, like that"). Indeed, one can imagine a movie montage launching forward in time, bouncing over months of work to arrive at a crucial point. The video certainly explores this with VHS footage of domestic scenes and life on the road, switching with a digital performance from the Empress herself. How does she do it tho?
Once a candidate vying for dream-pop's essence, Lorely Rodriguez (Empress Of) sounds fully charmed by the vigor of house music on latest single "Water Water." But unlike other songs from artists that have fallen for these same sources, no shortcuts were taken, no attempts to reduce the vision that we've come to expect from her. "Water Water" is turbulent to the end, enduring harsh elements by way of echoed cries and the emotions they represent. What saves it from relying on pure abstraction, of course, is the gorgeous release in its dance elements, which come together like a runway walk in the fourth dimension. Through this Lorely is able to split (or maybe even reject) the one-sided pop spotlight. ("I want to care much more, But I'm feeling less and less"). Anyone else have chills?
Empress Of will soon release her debut album on Terrible Records and XL Recordings.
Systems EP, Empress Of Terrible Records/Double Denim Rating: 84 by Giovanni Guillén
What have we learned since the '00s Latin Wave fizzled out? That the U.S. Latino presence can be adequately represented by a few megastars? That “Latino-ness” looks the same across the country and has been that way forever? These questions aren’t meant to bash the crossover success of J.Lo or even Pitbull, but more to illustrate my relief at the arrival of one Empress Of. Like 23-year-old Lorely Rodríguez, I am a native-born U.S. citizen whose first language was Spanish. Over time, school and friends naturally forced new dimensions onto my cultural identity. While this is, for the most part, a wonderful thing to experience, it definitely has its downside; for instance, in cases where others attempt to define that identity for me (“you don’t look or act Mexican…”).
Released on Terrible Records, the same brand attached to an impressive roster of Brooklyn cool kids (Chris Taylor, Chairlift, Blood Orange), one might be tempted to make similar false judgments towards Empress Of and her debut EP. Lacking an obvious Latin background, somehow it would then be fair to characterize her in another extreme: a trendy product made to blend in with the rest of (mostly) white indie culture. Systems, thankfully, is none of that. Written and self-produced, Rodríguez offers a unique glimpse inward: her bilingual thoughts, her own experiments, all while simultaneously challenging ideas about what a Latin@ musician should look and sound like in 2013. On paper that already makes this four-song release a success, but the true achievement, of course, behind Empress Of lies entirely in the quality of the music.
Last year’s Yours Truly performance of “Don’t Tell Me” served as the perfect prelude into Systems. By stripping the song of its orotund layers and effects (leaving only piano), one had no choice but to confront Rodríguez’s delicate plea: “Don’t tell me it’s too late for us… hold me tight, don’t let go.” On Systems, Rodríguez’s words once again seek safety behind the old dynamic, only now there’s a balance. The production is tighter, the lyrics are no longer buried; strength and fragility coexist, each work to fortify her inner realm.
Opener “Hat Trick” thrusts, no, aparates right into a world of movement and chaos. The interpolated whoosh sounds bring to mind rivers and cascades flowing towards a looming collision. But that danger and uncertainty can also be thrilling (“tell me my future, tell me I’ll make it”). Over the weeks and months that I’ve arrived at its gleaming revelation I still get a rush (“now that I know you exist, never let you go”), rightfully earning a place as one of the year’s best singles. “No Means No” mixes interesting time signatures, subtle math rock (remnants of her Celestial Shore days?) with an exciting hook. Something I could definitely see contemporaries like Algodón Egipcio or Dënver getting their hands on for future remix brilliance.
For the Spanish-language second act, Lorely trades live percussion for brighter designs of synth and voice. “Tristeza” confronts a newly acquired freedom, perhaps after some much-needed crying. The tears are gone, but confusion and anxiety are still there. It’s no wonder Rodríguez pauses and gasps throughout as if catching her breath. “Camisa favorita” builds paper chains out of syllables, carefully laid side-by-side. Its chorus achieves a perfect dizzying effect, “hay algo algo que… olvidé olvidé.” Non-Spanish speakers take note: the repetition on here (like so much music in Spanish) need not be transcribed or translated, it just needs to be felt.
My friends hate me. I don't blame them. SXSW is long over and i'm still bringing up my NRMAL weekend in Monterrey. What can I say? It's been hard letting go of the sweet memories created at the Parque del Ferrocarril, especially when the vibes Austin gave out was a nauseating mix of Doritos cheese and people traffic. I'm only exaggerating, of course. SXSW, like the internet, is what you make of it. And I was out there for most of the festivities (albeit minus one #PincheAndrew) making the most of it and representing Club Fonograma. Here are some of the festival highlights:
photo by Daniela Galindo
EMPRESS OF @ EMPIRE CONTROL ROOM
While last year's South By centered on welcoming long overdue acts, this year it was the rising stars who commanded our attention. First up on the CF itinerary was Lorely Rodríguez aka Empress of. My (H-town) crew and I arrived at the Pretty Much Amazing showcase making a conscience effort to keep cool and dissimulate the fan boy/girl on our faces. As Lorely and her band began to set up, it was clear we weren't alone in those attempts as a small group of smiling spectators filled the front row anxious to catch a glimpse of the Empress. For anyone familiar with her "colorminutes" project, the show itself was a straight up greatest hits set. Even if it took Lorely a few tracks to get into her zone ("Champagne" and latest single "Hat Trick" underwhelmed as a result), her stage presence evolved. Soon her dance moves became totally in sync with the projections that hugged the stage. On the closing track, Lorely chanted: "I-I-I-I've be-e-en waiting for you" but we're all pretty sure it was the other way around.
photo by Giovanni Guillén
DELOREAN @ BROOKLYN VEGAN DAY PARTY
Leaving the cavernous Empire Control Room, we moved outdoors and into the Old Emo's just in time to catch the end of a Savages set. Now, i'm all for a good punk show, but something about having it right before Delorean felt totally wrong. And being outside in the Texas sun definitely didn't help. WE CAME TO DANCE. QUEREMOS BAILAR. Once Delorean took to the stage it felt like seeing old friends we hadn't heard from in years. Upon hearing them actually play, it hit me just how much I missed their special brand of larger than life house-accented pop. Understandably, their setlist was heavy on new material (luckily for us the new songs sounded fresh). Only a handful of tracks from the still great Subiza made the cut ("Stay Close" and "Real Love") but it was enough to cause me to lose it.
Side note: Midway through their show, Delorean's guitar player broke a string. Luckily our friend Alex Segura stepped up and fixed it on the stage in time for their next song. My hero. <3
photo by Daniela Galindo
FAKUTA @ JAVELINA BAR (INTOLERANCIA SHOWCASE)
After a much-needed break on the Texas Capitol Building lawn, we closed the evening at the Javelina Bar where Pamela Sepúlveda opened the Intolerancia showcase. Recalling how 1/3 of the Club Fonograma staff attended the Nrmal/Chilean showcase in Monterrey (where many of us were traumatized by its congested space and an overdose of cellphone camera usage) it's worth mentioning how this setup was the complete opposite. Fine by me because it felt like I was actually gonna see Fakuta for the first time. Backed up with just one Laura Palmer, Felicia Morales, Pamela treated us with highlights from Al vuelo. Equally pleasant in the show was observing how the two friends exchanged playful looks as if silently acknowledging the crowd differences and reception of Mexico with Austin. Songs like "Las partes" and "Armar y desarmar," however, were able to pull in some curious bar patrons (who says it isn't about the music anymore?). When I finally got to once again hear the sweet "Juntapena," I found myself without a dance partner. Still, knowing I wasn't gonna get a chance to hear it live anytime soon, I at least made an attempt to slow dance with myself.
As Empress Of (Brooklyn-based "project of sight + sound" by Lorely Rodriguez) continues to seep through various spots around the blogosphere and starts to gain attention from even the most revered of zines, it’s hard for us not to feel bad about not covering her until now, considering the musical output she’s been laying out these past few months has been both riveting and atypical. Her "colorminutes" project of fifteen one-minute-long songs playing in front of a uniquely colored background on YouTube is an unsettling experience of short-attention-span pop music, and makes us think about just how little the one-minute song format has been exploited (or at least popularized) outside the form of three-chord guitar jams - whether it’s through the viscerality of punk rock’s various branches, or the hook centricity of Guided by Voices-style lo-fi.
Rodriguez, though, has claimed these small tracks are only snippets of forthcoming full ones, which just confirms the fact that, as captivating as some of these color minutes can be, most of them do have a sense of incompletion to them. Which is why she developed a couple of these snippets into full 3-minute tracks. Her previous single “Champagne” is an intriguing slice of pop (or watermelon) indulgence, whose unabashed beauty via erratic songcraft delineates very well her self-declared fandom of Cocteau Twins and Deerhoof. On her latest track “Hat Trick,” she appears to gracefully settle on a more traditional approach to song structure and pacing. Featuring a Laura Palmer-esque cover photo that could be a subtle nod to Julee Cruise-style dream pop. Most recent comparisons tend to gravitate towards other contemporaries (St. Vincent) who, like Empress Of, have elegantly conflated the gap between pop and experimentalism.
Her forthcoming bilingual EP Systems is out on Terrible and Double Denim next month.
