
Although it’s based on familiar pop structures, the songwriting has an origami quality of folding and unfolding back on itself, creating pockets and planes. She and her co-producers focus on a few ingredients: keyboards of freshwater clarity, acoustic guitars glowing in reverb, breakbeats that sound like tablas and chimes being struck in intricate patterns. The world of Desire, I Want to Turn Into You is bright and bustling, but it also has the trichromatic simplicity of a Nintendo game. Polachek’s music doesn’t send messages it creates worlds. Among such peers, she stands out for evocative abstraction, for substance that arises from style. She fits with a wave of performer-producers who are fusing hyperactive electronica with plush R&B and pop: Grimes, Janelle Monáe, Charli XCX. Polachek’s other asset is as a songwriter and producer. Her melodies take steep turns that reflect both Polachek’s training in opera and her studying of Auto-Tune, a technology that showed us not just what the human voice couldn’t do, but what it could do yet hadn’t tried. One is a voice like a katana, so supple you can’t quite tell where it ends and where the air around it begins, and so strong that it can slay ogres. Musically, Polachek has two special assets.

Her 2019 solo album, Pang, contained the greatest Sade ballad never recorded-light a candle and listen to “Door”-as well as a TikTok hit with the killer title “ So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings.” She fronted the aughts indie band Chairlift (you may know it from the 2008 Apple commercial), co-wrote a Beyoncé song (the slick, lithe “No Angel” from 2013), and earned New Yorker profile treatment and the title of Pitchfork’s favorite song of 2021. And it represents a culmination for Polachek, who has already cut a shimmering trail through culture. It conjures not what new age really was or what it became, but what it once seemed to be from a distance: actual magic. Polachek’s new album, Desire, I Want to Turn Into You, locates that realm.

As my generation grew up, new age seemed a bit like a lost world-a faerie realm we were promised but never got to go to. During the ’90s, it was absorbed back into pop and rock, thanks to trip-hop and Tool and Madonna’s Ray of Light, leaving the purest of mood music to circulate mainly in crystal-healing shops.

A calming blend of electronic instrumentation and global folk traditions, the style had its roots in the hippie era but became a commercial phenomenon in the late ’80s. During childhood, many of us Millennials only ever got to catch glimmers, like rare fireflies, of the sound known as new age. Pure Moods ads, laden with unicorns and Enya, were welcome bursts of enchantment between Nickelodeon episodes.Ĭaroline Polachek, a 37-year-old pop innovator, may well have had the same relationship with those ads. But if you’d told me the same thing in 1994, I’d have said that the future sounded cool.
#PURE MOODS SONGS TV#
If you’d told any music connoisseur living in the year 1994 that one of the hottest albums of the year 2023 would sound like Pure Moods, the relaxing compilation CD then being sold on TV commercials for $17.99 (plus shipping and handling), that person might have laughed.
