MARINA — ‘Love + Fear’ Review

Vulni/Tomás
4 min readMay 23, 2019
MARINA — Love+Fear, Atlantic // 2019

For her newest album, Marina Diamandis took inspiration from Swiss-American psychologist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, and her theory that all emotions stem from “love” — all positive ones — and “fear” — all negative ones. This does not come out of nowhere — after finishing the promotional tour for her 2015 album Froot, she decided to take a break in order to rest, and in the meantime took a couple courses in psychology to get inspired for her upcoming work, for which she was no longer going to be known as “Marina and the Diamonds” but simply as MARINA.

The result is Love + Fear, a double album meant to represent each side of human emotions. It is meant to be an ambitious and personal album, something Marina is no stranger to, and could have been something interesting to see her tackle. In her music she’s always had deep, insightful commentaries regarding the human condition, talking about personal experiences and creating characters in order to make very interesting points about fame, mental and physical health, society and gender.

Unfortunately, several things about Love + Fear fall flat. First of all, the fact that this record is divided into two — going as far as releasing the first disc of the album, Love, before the other half — is pretty much pointless, as there is no real, noteworthy topical division between the two. For instance, the position between “True” from the first disc and “Life Is Strange” from the second could be switched and there wouldn’t be a major change in the flow or the thematic coherence in the album, and it doesn’t sound like she’s trying to explain how these two sides blur or anything — and it feels like there is no purpose for it.

Musically, the album seems like a rather big step down from the eccentric, wild indie pop from Marina’s 2010 debut The Family Jewels, the hyperactive electropop of Electra Heart and the synth-driven colorfulness of Froot. Instead, it’s replaced by trendy-sounding music that feels too derivative from her contemporaries. Songs like “You”, “Karma”, “Believe in Love” and “No More Suckers” sound like they could belong to any Bebe Rexha, Julia Michaels or Anne-Marie and basically any other mildly-popular pop singer from the UK, alternating between light afropop, trap 808s and rather tame future bass that sound like Flume circa-2016 leftovers.

This is not even mentioning how funny it is “Handmade Heaven” and “To Be Human”, both produced by Joel Little of Lorde’s Pure Heroine fame, sound similar in melody and in production to the point where they’re almost identical — and not so much in a way where it’s meant to be cohesive or continuous, they sound more like rehashed versions of one another. The instrumentals sound way too plain and monotone for someone who used to make, perhaps not experimental, but definitely innovative and creative pop music.

Lyrics were always Marina’s strength, but her songwriting falls short when compared to her other work. Most of the songs rely heavily on repetition, promotional singles “Orange Trees” and “Superstar” being the worst offenders — a testament to how shallow Love + Fear’s songwriting actually is. While trying to make a deep analysis of human behaviour and emotions by taking inspiration from philosophers and psychological studies, she makes these sound more flat and simple than they actually are. “Maybe there’s no wrong or right / ’Cause everybody feels the same / And all we know is life is strange” and several other lines in the record feel almost embarrassing coming from someone who wrote songs like “Savages” or “Hollywood”.

The better moments on the album come from when exploring darker sounds and topics, something that she is surely well versed in. “End of the Earth”, the last track of the Love disc is about desperately risking everything for those you love, while “Too Afraid” is about feeling vulnerable and scared after a break-up, with a matching sparser, more melancholic electronic production. In the opposite end, “Enjoy Your Life” and the Clean Bandit-assisted “Baby” — despite a questionable Luis Fonsi feature, — are two genuinely fun and enjoyable pop songs that truly gives one the impression that one should enjoy life in all its greatness depsite hardships. Those songs make it clear that MARINA still has a diamond touch, but unfortunately doesn’t show it often enough for Love+Fear to stand out as a remarkable pop album, much less as a successful exploration of the human condition.

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