Uffie: Sunshine Factory Album Release


In 2006,18-year-old Anna-Catherine Hartley came with her debut single as Uffie, the arrogant, baby voiced innovation music “Pop the Glock.” MySpace virality guided to functionalization underwater fame: Uffie joined the modern French electro brand Ed Banger, and then another music, “Robot — uf” is included in the the musical for a Pedro Almod ó versicolor movie. But as stardom grew closer to the contemporary she was unable to escape, Uffie disappeared from view. Her debut album, Sex Dreams and Denim Jeans, came in 2010 — three years delayed — with a guest appearance from Pharrell. In February 2012, she announced that she was working on a second album, and also over a year eventually, she stated her superannuation.

Sunshine Factory, Uffie’s long-awaited second album — 10 years stalled, to be correct — signals a self-appointed departure. “I’m truly frustrated with this being associated with Bloghouse” Uffie told NYLON (which identified her as a bloghouse-era logo “).” I remember that’s where I began and I remember I took a break, but I am putting through substantial work with awesome folks. “Produced primarily by chillwave heavyweight Torii O y Moira, Sunshine Factory steps away from the self-effacing sleaze of Sex Dreams into a purgatorial nightclub haze. Uffie explains, rather vaguely, as a nightclub-themed fantasy of post-pandemic” exit “: an” parallel universe “in which” all the weirdos can assemble. “The album’s barrage of incongruous alt-rock guitars and convulsive electroclash synths is dizzying enough to open up a wormhole, but in all its brightness its bright, noisy, unfocused glory, Sunshine Factory is undeniably a good time.

Throughout the album, indie rock and shoegaze influences butt heads with electro-house beats and avant-LMFAO lyricism. It works often enough: Though an opener “winner” never builds to the satisfying intensity of its Strokes-esque bassline, its pulsing rhythm is undoubtedly catchy. Other points, it falters; the shoegaze-y crunch of “prickling my neck” falls apart once Uffie’s fuzzed-out vocals enter the picture. Her aughtscore, reverb-heavy sing-raps feel anachronistically out of place, especially when the instrumentals lean towards the 80s and’ 90s indie rock. When Uffie breaks away from these genre constraints her music takes on new life: The frenzied drums and breakneck babbling of standouts “chained to the rear of a car-shaped metal plate (the ring, being tucked away away from the top, and not connected, causing it to become a very difficult object to be put on chain” imbue the song ‘s’ 00s teen-movie guitar licks and fizzy hi-hats with an unexpected hyperpop sparkle. Peaches ‘introductory voicemail embraces the hilarity of being the messiest one at the function: “Hey Uffie… I’m not sure if I’ll make it to the group. I received my jerk locked in the window and I can’t get it out! Ughhh.”

Uffie’s lyricism, however, remains scattered at best. Moments of surprisingly blunt lucidity ( “I’m not against it/I just don’t want to remember it” lead single “Cool!”) are quickly lost in the episodes of her pop culture Rolodex, from which she blurts benchmark after benchmark into being from a money weapon. Singer, Barack Obama, and the Jetsons were once three of her incomprehensible shoutouts; “Sophia” seems to be referencing Yaeji ( “Make it rain girl Get it soon!”) and Sophie ( “Shake it up and make a smoothie”) as it concurrently cleans the sand off the Migos “bad and boujee.” The Clown is about Bonnie and Clyde, or the desire to have their “same day” “get away” while you’ re here “things have been too crazy” on an album whose opening line has been a bit of a sneer “We converge at the same time.”

This hesitating /don ‘t-give-a-fuck authenticity and arguably deliberate genericism creates the album difficult to process. Music to Music, Uffie has just seemed to fully commit to a voice and even to parody. Album nearer “crowdsurfinginyoursheets” sooners, from soft music to summing up lyrics with all the glamour of a Spotify advert, before finally drifting into an unmemorable time “lo-fi hip-hop beats”‘. The biggest weakness of Sunshine Factory may be its feeling of under-commitment towards every idea in any of the very items that Uffie created before. “Pop the Glock” The light was bright, but Uffie’s last and most lasting impression was of a composer engaged to the slightly and unimpressed with the ceremony. Peak As Sunshine Factory, it overall feels soluble, exiting tiny feeling beyond smooth-brained uncertainty.