Review Summary: And behold, a pale horse, and he that sat upon it, his name was Death.
Pop music is dying. Whether the culprit is streaming services or political frustration, we can surely agree that the Hot 100 has become a barren wasteland of gloom and decay. “But pop music is supposed to be fun, right?”
Wrong. Last year’s Billboard charts displayed no such emotion. Instead of breezy summer jams and upbeat dance anthems, the hit songs of 2016 seemed to solely consist of Drake’s sleepy faux-dancehall and Mike Posner’s depression porn. How did this happen? Is this really what we want to hear?
Apparently, the answer is a resounding
yes. Despite the astonishing lack of vitality in the modern world of pop, the industry continues to churn out artists that only seek to suck us further down the rabbit hole of despair. After watching her live show and listening to her debut EP, I can confirm that Bishop Briggs is the latest such harbinger of destruction.
Bishop Briggs is the alias of Sarah McLaughlin, a British-born singer-songwriter who previously resided in Hong Kong and Tokyo before arriving in L.A. on her pale horse of musical doom. McLaughlin makes self-described “trap soul,” which is industry-speak for “something that will make a lot of money.” In truth, McLaughlin’s music could be best described as “trend-pop” due to its vacuous absorption of current fads. Her fusion of aggressive trap beats and overly-moody lyrics is blatant enough, but becomes comical when paired with her gothic wardrobe and Usagi-esque buns that are totally #aesthetic. The use of these styles and tropes would typically be acceptable, but McLaughlin throws them together with such thoughtlessness that they ring hollow. Of course, authenticity is unimportant when you are trying to be The Next Big Thing.
If lead single “River” is any indication, the rise of Bishop Briggs is inevitable. The track debuted last January, quickly making its way to the top of Spotify’s Viral 50 and spending the following months in the upper echelons of the iTunes alternative charts. As such, “River” is emblematic of everything wrong with the current pop scene- the song’s gloomy acoustic verses give way to one of the most grating hooks to ever grace the earth. Backed by handclaps and bursts of synthetic brass, McLaughlin shrieks her way to stardom in a technically proficient performance that feels surprisingly lifeless. Before the track ends, we are forced to suffer through even more cliches (a tired “whoa-oh” refrain and the obligatory chanting of “hey”) that are clearly included to check off boxes on the “requirements for a radio hit” checklist rather than to add any musical depth.
The rest of the self-titled EP is neither inventive nor engaging. “Dark Side” is little more than a Hot Topic theme song full of edgy platitudes like “welcome to my darkness, I’ve been here a while” and “there’s nothing left but pain.” Indeed, it’s easy to visualize these quotes on the all-black Bishop Briggs t-shirts that will probably fall between the Halsey and Melanie Martinez sections of your local emo emporium within a few months.
The second single “Wild Horses” is almost a carbon copy of “River,” with even dryer acoustic balladry leading into a TNGHT-style drop that suffers from a total lack of energy. The EP’s only moment of genuine inspiration is the twisted vocal loop kicking off “The Way I Do,” which possesses a genuine air of darkness but is quickly overpowered by far dryer instrumentation. If the music here has any saving grace, it would be McLaughlin’s vocals. With the exception of the lead single, her delivery and presence on these tracks (especially closer “The Fire”) is actually quite striking. Her vocal work is reminiscent of Florence Welch, though the weak songwriting and ugly instrumentation consistently fail to service her. As a singer, McLaughlin knows what she’s doing, but as Bishop Briggs, she’s lost.
So why is this EP ringing the death knell for pop music? It’s because pop is all about
reproduction. Doing something new is too risky, so most up-and-coming artists will simply recycle successful trends on their rise to the top. It’s one thing for Zayn and Justin Bieber to make horrendously dreary hits, because they have the freedom to do whatever they want. The issue arises when those depressing production decisions become the norm, and every new pop act starts following suit. For each boring-ass trap pop song that got big last year, there are a hundred future stars concocting similar music right this minute.
Bishop Briggs isn’t the first musician to be caught inside this vapid struggle for chart domination, and she certainly won’t be the last. She is, however, the most definite example of the shameless trend-abuse that executives will engage in while they whore after our money and keep creativity behind a veil. This is the apopcalypse, and it’s just getting started.
