Poppy. Poppy. Poppy. Poppy. Poppy.
She gazes past the camera and into the internet voyeurs eyes; reciprocating their fascination with technology and its ability to distribute material that makes you go “what the fuck?”
Poppy was initially a performance artist of sorts, publishing videos on Youtube that include her reciting her name for 10 minutes straight in various poses, delivering an existential monologue about being alive while an ominous drone slides between the viewers ears, and simply looking forward and blinking. She’s a robot.
There was always a sinister underpinning to her work, which was juxtaposed by her sickly sweet voice that speaks to some type of innocent and angelic little girl archetype. It’s a trope seen before – the twins found at the termination of the hallway in The Shining, or the swamp haired child that crawls out of the TV in The Ring.
It seems Poppy has been slowly crawling away from internet side-show and towards fully fledged musician – early music was bubblegum pop wearing the internet – now, she’s entirely off the deep end, crafting full blown metal songs that outwardly convey the message that’s been bubbling under for so long.
“I Disagree” is the result of a slow and intentional corruption of that initial “Poppy” image. Subtly in sound is thrown out the window – the album opens with a blaring siren adorned with Poppy’s cutesy vocals;
“Bury me six feet deep, cover me in concrete, turn me into a street.”
It’s a metal song, but the chorus transmogulates black clouds of smog into pink clouds of cotton candy, whip-lashed and drilled into a mesmerizing poem that contrasts the sweetness of sugar with the bitterness of the devil.
Ahead of the album’s release, Poppy seemed to be slowly dropping the sinister robot persona in favor of her actual self. That’s none more evidenced than by her most recent Youtube upload – a video of her boyfriend doing her makeup. In the world of Youtube, “boyfriend does my makeup” tags sit in complete opposition to “creepy robot girl performance artist.”
“You can be anyone you want to be, you can be free, you can be free”
In late 2019, Poppy dropped former collaborator Titanic Sinclair, proclaiming his behaviors manipulative and controlling. Not a sight unseen in the music industry – labels and managers owning people and their voices. But to focus on this detail would be a disservice to the music and narrative woven within.
Perhaps the “robot” is becoming self aware, rebelling against her creators and finding some sort of personal truth. The manic genre switching between nu-metal, pop ballad and cutesy J-Pop suggest a navigation of a binary system – whether in a robot’s brain or the perception of man and woman, aggression and docility, genre and nebula.
In “Nothing I Need,” metal slips and shines in the background, alongside the calmest instrumentation heard thus far. It sounds like Poppy’s post psychotic-break comedown – she’s cleaning the knives that carved out any doubt about the direction she’s taking.
“Sick of the Sun” features a drowning guitar riff and Poppy’s smooth vocals – a pairing that conjures imagery of a burning heatwave on the ocean’s horizon.
“Everyone told me that it would get better, but every day feels exactly the same.”
This isn’t a happy beach trip. We can picture Poppy dressed in black, perched under an umbrella, smearing SPF across her pale skin and hiding behind a sharp pair of oversized sunglasses. Day trips to scenic locations full of joyful people might only make the temperature between happiness and depression singe all the more.
The penultimate and closing track’s titles and themes are not lost on anyone living in 2020. While those extroverted types who thrive on activity and chaos are now deteriorating in quarantine, the introverts and cave-dwellers laugh at the suggestion; “Don’t Go Outside”.
What unites these two types? The vast amount of misinformation and fear to be had – whether from facts of the pandemic’s reality or the spin generated by a short-circuited political washing machine, tumbling from left to right, shaking us all in faith and understanding.
“The TV says you’re out of time, suck the fear in through your eyes, everyone is bland and blind, don’t go outside.”
Where we once gazed at Poppy miming through a computer screen and scoffed, she looks out at us with pity. The whole thing is a bit edgy and melodramatic to some degree – but what is metal and sharp-edged music if not a bit self-indulgent and on-the-nose? It’s fun.
The album closes in a flurry of each previous track – a tornado of guitar riffs and synths that culminate in a nihilists favorite ending. Everything is fucked – so let it all go to hell.
“Down, let it all burn down, we’ll be safe and sound, when it all burns down.”
At least then, among the smoke and ashes, there is peace in sound and no messy affairs or endless histories to amend and build atop of.
Poppy successfully takes the next step in her narrative – a robot human self-actualizing her artistic journey and, as they love to say, reclaiming her own narrative.
“I Disagree” is a treat to listen to, though it might rot your vital organs.