For Prestige, their third album, London indie trio Girl Ray dabble in the art of the concept album. The idea emerged as singer-guitarist Poppy Hankin, bassist Sophie Moss, and drummer Iris McConnell were crammed in a bus on a post-Brexit tour of Europe at the start of 2020. Hankin had just binged Pose, the FX drama about New York City ballroom culture, and she began recording demos inspired by its soundtrack to battle her malaise and distract herself from her faraway girlfriend. As she sketched out each song, Hankin imagined them blaring at an imaginary nightclub called Prestige. Girl Ray are the house band of this fantasy locale, pumping out nu disco until dawn.
Beyond the immediate influence of Pose, Prestige is steeped in the current disco-pop resurgence, steering Girl Ray away from their twee roots and new-wave experiments. Roused by the music of Jessie Ware and Róisín Murphy, as well as Dua Lipa’s Future Nostalgia, Hankin penned hi-def tracks stacked with twangy bass and prickly, Chic-like guitar. Falling in love was another catalyst for Hankin’s newfound poptimism, and the lyrics are all wine and roses—joyous, but terminally cliche at times. On the mid-tempo “Give Me Your Love,” Hankin recalls “Searching for your hand/Walking in the sand,” while on “Love Is Enough,” she spills out this couplet: “Time will tell my love/On the wings of a dove.” Three songs contain “love” in the title, lit up like a marquee, and the word is uttered some two-dozen times across the album’s 42 minutes. Fortunately, Hankin’s breathy, droning voice helps divert from the Hallmark language, as does her melodic expertise.
Each track is sparkling and memorable, and likely to lodge itself in your hippocampus. Playing “True Love” at top volume feels like whirling around a roller disco, where hot pants and synchronized clapping are mandatory. A liquid Moog solo from Mark Bencuya twists and turns like Mountain Dew coursing through a curly straw, a sweet and slick finish to the bubbly tune. The ’70s-flavored pop cut “Easy” takes a cue from Warren Zevon, pairing brightly pulsing piano with bulbous bass and spare drumkit a la “Werewolves of London.” Hankin wrote the song on a trip to New York, where she wandered the streets solo and shot billiards. On “Hold Tight,” Hankin’s foggy tenor floats over congas and Wurlitzer as she asks her crush to “get a Coke and sit on the wall.”
