Stellular is Rose Elinor Dougall’s second solo album, although you’d be forgiven if this is the first release you’ve heard from her. Her introspective debut, Without Why, came out seven long years ago in 2010, two years after her split with The Pipettes: that noughties experiment to create the ultimate indie girl pop group. The Pipettes were a clearly defined concept – their matching polka dot dresses, vocal harmonies and synchronised dance routines were lifted straight from Phil Spector’s 60s pop model. The group were led by singer-songwriter Bobby Barry in his attempt to follow Bill Drummond and Jimmy Cauty(better known as The KLF)’s The Manual (How To Have A Number One The Easy Way) to the letter! It must have been an odd place to find yourself beginning a career in music. A component of another person’s experiment, one that I’m not sure was ever expected to become such a monster, or such a success depending on how you look at it. If 2010’s Without Why, was Rose’s attempt to make something outside of such clearly defined parameters, you could read Stellular as the results of time spent trying to discover what clearly defined parameters she would like to set herself. That’s not all she’s been up to for the last seven years, of course. A long stint playing to enormous crowds as part of Mark Ronson’s touring band has taken a decent chunk of that time and has doubtlessly played a part in shaping where Rose would go with this collection of songs.

Once Rose had decided to commit herself to making new music, this time round, she went at it with focus and clarity. Treating songwriting as a job she went to the studio on a daily basis and wrote… and wrote, and wrote from the sounds of things. Crafting up to 80 songs before work properly began on the album. You can feel this in this sophistication and confidence of Stellular, but it’s telling that when she got together with producer/writer Oli Bayston (aka Boxed In), he suggested throwing away everything she’d laboured over so far – something that is also evident when listening to the album. Once they got going, writing took three months, so, in spite of the time put in there’s a freshness and clarity to this collection of songs. Restricting the sounds they would use to a few key elements, they’ve made a very sharp modern pop record, that propels itself along as it explores the relationships and struggles of young creatives trying to carve out lives in difficult times.

The album opens with ‘Colour Of Water’, snakey electric guitar lines and atmospherics dance around each other setting the scene for Rose’s vocal to smoulder amongst crystaline synths and a firm, driving rhythm section. There’s a sense of wonder and expectation to the song, it’s propelled like a high speed train on its way to the city, as imagery flies by, there’s not really a chorus, just a hooky verse, relaxed bridges and a synth melody that rises up in-between the sections. ‘Strange Warnings’ continues in a similar vein, with more synth hooks that give everything a sheen – recalling the futurist optimism of early synth pop – ironic when there’s a melancholy to the vocal and anxiety in the lyrics. Rose’s vocal stays classy and serene throughout the record, her diction is precise, making it easier to tease out the lyrics than most; I find myself thinking that she’s better at being Sophie Ellis Bextor than Sophie Ellis Bextor ever was.

The title track, ‘Stellular’ lyrically covers the frustrations of creative people looking for their breaks. With ‘stellular’ meaning star-shaped I find myself thinking of the Blur song from Modern Life Is Rubbish, although that lyric sets itself at a more domestic level, whereas the synthetic sounds and sweeping reach of Dougall’s track aims for more celestial heights – as if city life is as much inspiration as obstacle. I really like ‘Closer’, with its funky bassline and smart synth hooks reminding me somewhat of Duran Duran. There’s a great moment where the drums fall away and, close-mic’ed Rose sings, “I don’t care about your band/it’s 3:45am/but I’ll be your biggest fan tonight” playing up to her indie-kid-dream-crush image of yore, somewhat, before the track gets back into motion, returning to one of the hookiest choruses of the album.

‘Take Yourself With You’ is a lovely mid-album ballad, with a lilting melody and a melancholy air. The arrangement is expertly geared towards supporting and focussing on a beautifully emotive yet understated vocal. There’s a real lushness to the synths on this one: soaring, soft and almost-orchestral. Changing pace again ‘All At Once’ is the song that stays with me the most from the album. Co-written with prolific Canadian songwriter Sean Nicholas Savage, it’s the sound of Dougall stepping out of her comfort zone, apparently an attempt to make “some modern music”, it’s telling that this sounds very retro to my ears, for our contemporary pop now sits on the shoulders of more giants than ever before. A cutting edge new sound is the sound of amalgamation, disparate elements combined to make a new whole. But it’s not the dark broody bassline, or the tag-team of synth hooks and slinky guitar chops that pulls you in – it’s the whispered chorus refrain of, “all at once/everything at once/everything tonight/everything tomorrow/everything at once/all at once” that, despite seeming pretty nonsensical when you see it written down, makes you feel like you’re getting invited to some exclusive secret party with all the cool and sexy kids.

‘Answer Me’, co-written with Miike Snow, doesn’t quite hit the mark for me. It sounds to my ears like a late 80s/early 90s pop song. You can imagine a version with Rick Astley’s baritone vocal working quite well. It’s very well put together, so it’s not like it sticks out like a sore thumb, it just seems a bit more obvious than the other tracks – until it hits the long bridge section, which is a lovely passage full of dark mystery, transporting the song to a new unexpected place. ‘Dive’ is a duet song with producer Boxed In, and it returns us to the vibe of the strong opening songs on the album. Oli Bayston’s vocal takes the second verse, sounding a little more like Orlando from The Maccabees than usual.

All in all Rose Elinor Dougall has turned in a great pop record, sophisticated, bold and with a clarity of vision. Rather than head for the commercial mainstream epic emotions of someone like Adele, or try to capture the committee-written retro pop glitterati of Mark Ronson, which would have been the obvious choice after spending two-and-a-half years on the road with his live show, Rose has taken a somewhat bolder path. The engine room to these songs is a tight driving rhythm section sound we’re hearing everywhere in the new alternative music we love here at Brightonsfinest. These beats are often described as kraut thanks to Neu!, Can or even Krafwerk, but I’m getting more of a Kevin Parker/Tame Impala vibe myself. Taking retro sounds from the 70s and 80s and bringing them bang up-to-date: the best modern electronics can give you married to the best bits of analogue and live instrumentation. You can’t escape the quality of Dougall’s lyrics and vocal delivery either. There’s always something a little bit more interesting than your average pop love-song fare in her choice of words and the crystal clarity of her singing voice will make this an album you‘ll keep wanting to come back to. Perfect for those long journeys in and out of the big bad city.
Adam Kidd

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