Almost 10 years after Human Heat (2014), the name Christine
His identity trajectory tints Paranoïa, Angels, True Love, an ambitious album both in its duration (1 hour 36 minutes!) and the extent of the musical universes explored. Its song roots sometimes point (the beautiful Flowery Days, for example), but Red generally unfolds with much more panache by drawing on the R
You have to buckle down, rather give up, to fully enjoy this work in the almost lyrical sense of the term. Paranoïa, Angels, True Love is indeed a narrative project swollen with sadness where it is a question of loss (the mourning of one’s mother, in particular) and of rebirth, of pain and redemption, themes among others associated with the identity of gender. “Take my hand and forget that I am just another woman/Even though you see me you’ll never let me be your boyfriend,” he sings in Full of Life, a seated track on the theme of Pachelbel’s Canon.
The collaborations of Madonna, who we guess interested in the identity and aesthetic affirmations of Red, are not particularly striking. She is content with narrated passages that are sometimes difficult to grasp, but we must admit that there is something symbolic in seeing the pop icon who embodies the self-possession supporting Red in her own way. The fact remains that the star of this record is Red, an amazing and touching chameleon singer, capable of romantic sweetness as well as touching, almost incantatory thrusts.
