She’s a strange one, is Gwen Stefani. On the debit side: the Anaheim-born singer is responsible for fronting one of the most vapidly bloodless ‘rock’ bands of all time (the diabolical No Doubt – an outfit who rejected the inspirational impulses of your Morriseys and Cobains in favour of Buster Bloodvessel and Suggs); has nothing but an expressionless hicuppy yelp of a voice; and appears unsure of whether to play up the blonde vamp look or retreat into a curiously bleached-out sexlessness.
In her defence, however, she seems blessed with both an appreciation of the crazy potentialities of pop music and also a genuine eccentricity that, when launching her first solo album (Love Angel Music Baby), saw her accompanied everywhere by a group of Asian robotic dancers called The Harajuku Girls; and that has recently found her using her big comeback single (‘Wind It Up’) to introduce Generation YouTube to the lost art of yodelling.
Confronted as we are these days by hordes of fame-hunger, toxic, teen princesses – Stefani’s odd-ball, retro-futurist bubblegum pop can be seen as a heartening example of individuality in a field that’s more often creepily exploitative and conformist.
In common with Love Angel..., The Sweet Escape sees Stefani raid her contacts book for nifty collaborators. This time round, Andre 3000, Dre and New Order don’t repeat their cameos, but The Neptunes seem more than happy to – and are joined behind the desk by Akon, Nellee Hooper and Tim Rice-Oxley from Keane. If that sounds to you like a particularly schizoid guest list, then it’s a fair indication of the ‘all-comers welcome’ bent of the music. You’ve probably already heard ‘Wind It Up’ – and realised that the church of Stefani is broad enough to encompass Rodgers, Hammerstein and Pharrell Williams – well, it’s a pretty good indication of the mongrel enthusiasm that fuels the project. The ace Mantronix-flavoured, electro-pop of ‘Orange County Girl’ and ‘Fluorescent’ are immediate attention grabbers, while the slinky ‘Yummy’ (blessed with an archly lascivious contribution from Mr. Williams) practically crawls from the speakers.
‘4 In The Morning’ is a big-haired ballad that would provide a perfect mid-‘80s accompaniment to a Molly Ringwald snog in a John Hughes film, and ‘Early Winter’ could have slipped easily onto either of the last Cardigans albums. The upbeat enthusiasm of ‘Don’t Get It Twisted’ and the title track make sure the good-humoured (and artfully constructed) momentum never lets up.
In short, it’s the kind of smart, fun and casually clued-in album that Madonna has spent the last half decade claiming to have made. Without, of course, actually delivering.
That said, it’s disappointing to find that nothing reaches the same giddy, helium heights as ‘What You Waiting For?’ or ‘Hollaback Girl’. The absence of a genuine airborne killer of a single prevents The Sweet Escape from attaining true greatness – but, taken as a whole, the admirable Ms Stefani has come up with another superior, modern pop album.