RIYL: Kate Bush, Dresden Dolls, Regina Spektor
Blending Kate Bush dolphin cries with stomping drum machines and buzzing, ‘80s-kissed synths, Marina and the Diamonds join La Roux on the list of British exports hoping to turn UK buzz and new wave nostalgia into American gold. Marina sounds fashionably ambivalent about crossing the pond, and fame in general – check out “Hollywood” for the latest in Top 40-ready tabloid-razzing pop – but beneath all her quirky affectations, she’s careful to pile up tall stacks of indelible, hip-shaking hooks.
The result is a record that’s certainly enjoyable in its own melodramatic way, but one that’s also hard to love. It has the uniquely British chill of arty singer/songwriters like Kate Bush, but The Family Jewels lacks the depth to live up to those comparisons on more than a superficial level – it’s like an art rock record that wants to trick you into dancing. Or a dance record that wants to pretend it’s an art rock album. Either way, a little of this stuff goes a long way; after the umpteenth hiccupping cry and dog-whistle harmony, it’s hard not to wish you could reach through the speakers and make her stop trying so hard.
The shame of it all is that The Family Jewels includes the ingredients of what might have been a really addictive album – tracks like the tongue-in-cheek “Hollywood” and the moving-in-spite-of-itself “I Am Not a Robot” prove Marina understands the mechanics of pop melody. Everything else is just a gimmick – and while gimmicks sometimes help sell records, they’ve also been known to backfire. For once, less polished Jewels might have made a better first impression. (Atlantic/Chop Shop 2010)
Rio is largely considered to be the Duran Duran’s watershed moment, but one could make a very strong case for their eponymous debut as the best album they’ve ever done. There isn’t a duff track in the bunch, and the album’s three singles (“Planet Earth,” “Girls on Film,” “Careless Memories”) are pound for pound the best batch of singles from any album in the band’s catalog. The most interesting facet of the album in retrospect is how well balanced it is; everyone gets their chance to shine, from John Taylor’s slinky bass lines to Nick Rhodes’ icy, flanged keyboard treatments to Andy Taylor’s forceful guitar riffs. It is the marginalization of that last one that would prove to be the band’s undoing down the road. 
Only two years removed from their debut, Duran Duran’s third album completes the transformation from rock band to pop act, and while the band was never more successful than they were here, time has not been kind to Seven and the Ragged Tiger. The backup singers, the percussionist…it all seems a little silly now, doesn’t it? In truth, the band could have released any old piece of junk at this time – and some would argue that they did – and it would have sold like hotcakes, but in their defense, the band did brew up a few truly great tunes. “New Moon on Monday” is arguably the band’s most underrated single, and “Shadows on Your Side” contains that dark edge that made earlier songs like “Night Boat” so haunting. And “The Seventh Stranger,” for all its bombast, is still a hell of a closer. 
In stark contrast to Seven and the Ragged Tiger, So Red the Rose, the Duran spinoff group formed by Simon LeBon, Nick Rhodes and Roger Taylor while John and Andy formed the Power Station, has held up remarkably well. Yes, Alex Sadkin’s production leaves much to be desired, namely the lack of a bottom end to these songs. (Once again, Nile Rodgers came to the rescue and remixed third single “The Flame.”) But “Side II” of So Red the Rose remains a fascinating listen. With Andy out of the way, LeBon and Rhodes were allowed to explore their art rock tendencies without resistance, and in the process created three songs that bested half of the album their idol Bryan Ferry released the same year. “Election Day” and “Goodbye Is Forever” were the radio hits, but they’re the least interesting moments here. “Keep Me in the Dark” is the band’s love letter to Roxy Music’s Avalon, and “El Diablo,” which inspired the pen name for “Juno” screenwriter Diablo Cody, is as theatrical a moment as the band’s ever made.
