What have the following records got in common; I Kissed a Girl, Bad Romance, Bonkers, Left My Heart in Tokyo? If you answered “they’re all chart-slaying pop classics that deliver a suckerpunch to the gut and then THWACK you over the head until you’ve no choice but to recognize that all indie music is basically inadequate, emotionally-preteen pish”, then well done. Go to the top of the class. For all its merits The Family Jewels is lacking a moment to compete with those records and for that reason alone Marina and The Diamonds must try harder. It’s all very well to release a solid album that will please the expectant hordes and help the record execs sleep a little easier in their beds – but where’s all the chaos, absurdity, and even-a-three-year-old-gets-it effortlessness the best pop entails? Not on The Family Jewels, that’s for sure. It’s not all bad news; there are plenty of ballsy productions backed up with snarky lyrics which together call to mind Sparks in their Kimono My House period pomp, but it’s impossible to shake off the feeling that despite some fun moments like Mowgli’s Road and Oh No, this debut album flirts with actual pop genius before running away like a scaredypants at the last minute. Shampain and single Hollywood will win Marina plenty of admirers if they receive radio play – which let’s face it, they will: she’s been hyped to oblivion. A few lyrical nods to feminism are a nice touch; Girls picks apart the media’s obsession with weight, while I Am Not a Robot is an arm-around-the-shoulder kind of song. But even that veers dangerously close to “when life is tough, hang on…” lyrical territory and this is supposed to be pop, not Snow Patrol. If Marina can sustain the attention for long enough to make a second album then there’s hope she’ll go for broke next time. When you’re being touted as Pop’s Next Big Thing nothing less than at least one undeniable, radio-shagging tune will do.
Words: Ciaran Gaynor
