Laufey – Madwoman

Why yes I did seek out a screencap of the video that featured Hudson Williams to maximize SEO…

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[6.50]Claire Davidson: “Madwoman” is the obligatory single from the deluxe reissue of Laufey’s album A Matter of Time, and indeed, it does feel like an afterthought, its conceit of a particularly agonizing crush so reminiscent of her previous single “Lover Girl” that it almost seems moot. That’s not to say there isn’t obvious care put into this track: its gradually mounting cello loops and clicking keyboard trills are definitely endearing, such that the instrumental could easily serve as the overture for a whimsical ‘60s romance film. Yet where “Lover Girl” mirrored its frenzied pursuit of a partner with infectious bossa nova rhythms, this song feels too prim and stately to earn its evocations of madness, to say nothing of how the florid instrumentation overshadows Laufey’s subtler charms. It’s all very cute, but it’s telling that “Madwoman” needed a music video that doubles as a Hudson Williams pin-up to truly stick in listeners’ minds.
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Al Varela: Laufey’s best song in a hot minute. A great mix of bossa nova and Broadway-esque musical where Laufey coos in her lower register about a guy who’s probably terrible for, but the chemistry is so magnetic and irresistible that she can’t help but be drawn to him and maybe even a little corrupted herself. This kind of song could easily be handled tactlessly, but the theatrics of the production in itself keeps you just as captivated. You can hear Laufey’s smile on her face as she looks back at this guy and all rational thought goes out the window just so she can chase that feeling and never let go. Plus, the outro has just enough of an odd, sinister twist to make it clear that a bad idea is still a bad idea.
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Ian Mathers: An ever so mildly “challenging” song title! One of the Heated Rivalry boys! A really good figure skater! Some other young people I sense I’m supposed to recognize! One of the actresses from Bottoms on a fake magazine cover! And yet, despite these trappings, the same “tastefully” sung, immaculately groomed, anhedonically retro confection Laufey seems to always make. It’s got Erewhon tie-in charity merch! I find in context I can’t even enjoy the organ much.
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Alfred Soto: Her voice has the right husk for the bossa nova lilt. Whether Laufey should have tried this well-arranged track at all is another question. No lyric or melody stands out.
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Nortey Dowuona: Drummer Maverick MacMillan plays a soft, relaxing groove below each layer placed by Spencer Stewart, which all billow and ripple above, needing not a fellow partner in dance but the keeper of a rhythm, no interplay happens between the double bass or cello, simple click-click-clack patterns all the way through. There is no attempt to overshadow or rush, no edges or rough parts, he keeps to his ProTools track and remains as unobtrusive as possible. He seemingly is nearly invisible, yet remains near the front of the mix by Steve Kaye, a signal to his trustworthiness. Laufey sounds great too.
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Tim de Reuse: I instinctively start tuning out when I hear such a string section these days. Almost nobody working within a stone’s throw of “pop” remembers how to use lush orchestration to any end other than as a signifier of 20th-century classiness (at best) or, more commonly, as auditory packing material to fill out an arrangement that doesn’t have enough ideas.  This treatment, then, immediately got me paying close attention; “Madwoman” recalls both sophisti-pop kitsch and dream-sequence horror in equal measure, rarely settling into a straightforward chord progression for more than a few moments at a time. That stepping melody that the violins execute in the post-chorus, my favorite flourish here, is woozy, tonally fraught, and ends on a note that is definitively not a resolution. The outro, in particular, is gorgeous in its refusal to sound pleasant; instead, that little motif is passed around through a tonal blender that swings right past “jazzy” and settles in “discordant.” Laufey’s tone is similarly unsettling, as she dips frequently into the lower part of her range to scoop up the phrase “like a mad, madwoman.” It’s so laser-precise in evoking this particular brand of woozy discomfort that I would applaud it on purely technical grounds even if it weren’t, you know, pretty catchy. Which it is!
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