Album of the Week: Carly Rae Jepsen E•MO•TION

There's a lot to be said for being a fan of indie and alternative music, and as one who has long supported these genres, I could go on and on about these benefits – a personal connection to artists you respect, the feeling of knowing a secret no one else does, and the excitement when you find someone else who shares your tastes.

Too often, however, it makes you a snob. Not just any old snob, but one of the most insufferable varieties – those who dislike something simply because it's popular, usually without giving it any kind of chance. Trust me, I used to be one – there are plenty out there.

Thankfully, Carly Rae Jepsen is here for all of us.

Her 2012 single, "Call Me Maybe," became the kind of inescapable song that can drive the populous in an uprising against an artist, and as a result, most people wrote off the rest of Kiss, the album that song was supposed to announce. Now, that album was far better than most either remember or want to admit ("Tiny Little Bows" was one of my favorite songs that year), but it wasn't anywhere near as successful as "Call Me Maybe" seemed to indicate it would be. People turned up their noses at Jepsen's song craft, and most wrote her off as a one-hit-wonder, particularly when she went dark for a couple years.

Now, nearly three years later, she's back with E•MO•TION, and it becomes clear after one listen why we didn't hear anything from her – she was busy crafting a pop masterpiece, the kind of knock-you-out, kick-down-the-door, hit machine that completely blasts away any who try to resist its ebullient charms. This is what musical joy sounds like. Music snobs, consider yourself on notice – this thing goes from start to finish, and if you have a problem with pop perfection, get over it. Jepsen can't be stopped.

Despite being firmly in the pop camp, Jepsen has a clear grasp of the indie sonic palette, and so she enlisted Dev Hynes (Blood Orange), Ariel Rechtshaid and Vampire Weekend’s Rostam Batmanglij to add some depth and shimmer to her sound, and boy did everyone involved deliver. None of these artists' production work draws attention to itself, or screams the producers name – instead they all serve the vision Jepsen has for her music. E•MO•TION channels 80's synths, techno-808s and impeccable songwriting (Jepsen co-wrote every track here) into the perfect album for cruising with the windows down on a sunny day, watching city lights pass by on the way home from the party, or for cutting loose at home on your own.

If she wanted, Jepsen could easily have subtitled this album "Greatest Hits," because every song here would be the best.thing.ever from almost any other artist. Opener "Run Away With Me" could well be my favorite album opener of the year, with its blaring saxophones, throbbing beat, and the way it builds up to the chorus before the hooks kick in. "All That," might easily be the soundtrack to the kiss in a John Hughes movie, "Warm Blood" is the dance anthem you didn't know you needed, and "Never Get to Hold You" brings the smolder in a big way.

Then there's "Boy Problems," which is the front-runner for my song of the summer. The way she delivers the refrain, "boy problems," over and over throughout the song gets into your head and stays there. It amply shows off Jepsen's brilliant sense of humor, and just-so-happens to be the most infectious track on the album. And let's be real, yeah? Who among us (whether they've been romantic or not) hasn't had boy problems of some kind of another in their life? If you don't have the most fun imaginable blasting this song out of your car and singing along, then I'm afraid you might not be capable of feeling joy. You should have a doctor check that.

Aside from the production, the biggest step forward for Jepsen has been her writing, which hits levels of wit and wisdom she only hinted at on Kiss. The aforementioned "Boy Problems," is actually an examination of friendship between women and their priorities, and how society's focus on attracting and keeping boys (notice she's not using the words "guys" or "men" at all – a nice zing on these boys' maturity level) just mucks all that up. There's the bemused way she delivers the lines, "I didn't just come here to dance/if you know what I mean/Do you know what I mean?" on "I Didn't Just Come Here to Dance," like whoever she is singing too is so oblivious she has to check and make sure he gets what is going on. She runs through some deep, adult-sized self-examination on "When I Needed You," which somehow doubles as a terrific fuck off to whoever she's singing about. On "Making the Most of the Night," she offers respite and release for someone (could be a friend or a romantic partner) in need, and there's an empathy and concern in her voice that most over-produced pop would gloss right over.

There's an understanding and humanity to everything about E•MO•TION that is as refreshing as it is bracing, and it's these qualities that elevate the album above the work done by most of Jepsen's peers. And it's just fun. Not in a cute, brush-off, "oh, that's fun" way, but in a sparkling, giant neon sign, "this is why I love music," way.

Skeptics and the faithful get in line – you're about to catch feelings.

E•MO•TION is out on School Boy/Interscope.

Also recommended this week:

Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweat's killer self-titled folk-soul album, which would have totally been my album of the week if not for Carly killing it.