NEW YORK (AP) 鈥� Where were you when you first heard the visionary producer and musician Sophie? Was it 2013's minimalist the club banger with pitched-up vocals that hit the Internet with such peculiar ferocity as if it crash-landed from outer space?
Or was it her Grammy-nominated debut, 2018鈥檚 鈥淥il of Every Pearl鈥檚 Un-Insides鈥�? Or her work on 2015 single 鈥淏itch I鈥檓 Madonna"? Perhaps it was 2016 EP 鈥淰room Vroom,鈥� where the popstar, forecasting a return to her club kid roots, began collaborating with the future-seeking PC Music collective, including her producer, Sophie? There's a straight line to be drawn between that moment and that took over 2024; in some ways Charli, like most pop savants, still seeks to enliven their work with even a fraction of Sophie's talents.
Perhaps Sophie was your introduction to hyperpop, a dot-com neologism used as a catchall for avant-garde electronic music with digital aesthetics? Whatever the moment, the effects are always the same: Hearing Sophie's big, bright songs feels like looking into the future. With each project, her work has always prophesied where pop music is headed. And on her final, posthumous album 鈥� lovingly curated by her brother and studio engineer Benny Long 鈥� she's still practicing prescience.
Three years ago, Sophie slipped and fell from the balcony of an apartment where she was staying in Athens. In a statement, her U.K. label Transgressive said she was simply trying to get a better view of a full moon. She was 34.
Before her death, she had nearly completed a new album 鈥� this album, even selecting the tracklist 鈥� and so Long chose to release it.
鈥淪ophie,鈥� the album, is full of shimmery, sugar-rush hyperpop, like the ebullient 鈥淲hy Lies,鈥� with BC Kingdom and LIZ, to the warp speed, cracking production of 鈥淓legance鈥� featuring Popstar, that increases its BPM with each dizzying passing second 鈥� and then slows, moving with incredible unpredictability. There are radio-ready pop hits here, too: like the 鈥淓xhilarate鈥� with Bibi Bourelly, the liquid trap 鈥淩AWWWWWW" with Jozzy.
And there's a cohesive darkness, from the breathy 鈥淚ntro (The Full Horror)鈥� and 鈥淭he Dome's Protection鈥� featuring Nina Kraviz to the industrial fever dream 鈥淏erlin Nightmare鈥� with Evita Manji. At each corner, there is a satiating surprise 鈥� percussion punched up, a distorted vocal with unusual intensity, whatever metallic techno-trance-dance is happening on 鈥淕allop,鈥� also with Manji, punctuated with asymmetrical, inorganic sounds.
It's likely that the love song 鈥淎lways and Forever,鈥� will be a source of conversation around the album; it features one of Sophie's earliest collaborators, Hannah Diamond, and, following Sophie's death, plays out like a tribute to her. Notably, it's a softer moment on the album packed with a kind of intentional maximalism, mirroring its emotionality.
The challenge with posthumous releases 鈥� particularly those meticulously crafted by destiny-seeking innovators, gone much too soon and much too young 鈥� is grappling with the finality of the release. But across 16-tracks, Sophie's 鈥淪ophie鈥� still sounds like the future of pop music; there is nothing past tense here.
___
For more AP reviews of recent music releases, visit:
Maria Sherman, The Associated Press
