Album Review: Florence + the Machine, ‘Dance Fever’

The stillness and solitude of the lockdown era of the COVID-19 pandemic set the foundation for a period of reflection and questioning that permeated every interlocked level of the world around us. The transition to working at home sparked a reevaluation of careers, jobs, and productivity under our current system, and an amalgamation of intersecting social movements further propelled discussions on gender and gender roles. On their masterful fifth studio album, Florence + the Machine douse this discourse in a vat of mythology that pulls from the Greek tradition, Christianity, and Florence’s own self-insertion into a mythos of her own creation. Assisted by Jack Antonoff, Florence Welch’s offerings on Dance Fever further cement her as one of the greatest working songwriters.

Florence introduced the Dance Fever era with “King,” a deceptively subdued beast of a track that mirrors its work-life balance debate in its continuously swelling and contracting structure. The song opens with “We argue in the kitchen about whether to have children / About the world ending and the scale of my ambition.” With that second line, Florence slyly states her mission with Dance Fever: escaping the myriad terrors of the end of the world by funneling her ambition into the creation of an entirely new and singular mythos. In this mythos, Florence is "no mother” and “no bride,” she is “King.” Concluding with a guttural scream of catharsis and frustration, “King” is a whirlwind that blends the witchy bombast of Florence’s classic hits with the comparatively lighter energy that grounded the band’s last album. “Free” inserts the first traces of Christianity into Florence’s mythos with these cutting lyrics: “To exist in the face of suffering and death / And somehow still keep singing? / Oh, like Christ up on a cross / Who died for us, who died for what?” The bleakness of the bridge leaves as quickly as it arrives because this is a song about freedom. Jubilant war cries lift the song to a place of blissful euphoria to counterbalance the brooding nature of “King.”

Polydor

Even though Florence is free for a moment when she’s dancing, Dance Fever is an examination of dualities and dichotomies, hence “Choreomania” — a manic handclap-laden anthem that bridges anxiety-induced panic attacks with a social phenomenon that took over early modern Europe. Florence’s strongest songwriting showcase is perhaps “Dream Girl Evil,” another track that deftly handles dichotomies that are determined to dictate our lives. The jazzy instrumentation deconstructs the Madonna-Whore complex that Florence works within and against. “Well, did I disappoint you? / Did mommy make you sad? / Do I just remind you / Of every girl that made you mad,” she taunts in a moment of grand self-mythology as referenced in “King.” Throughout Dance Fever, Florence draws on different musical influences to flesh out her new mythos. There are hints of country and doo-wop in the sweeping “Heaven Is Here,” shades of disco in the standout “My Love,” and gut-wrenching spoken word in the haunting “Restraint.” In addition to the plethora of musical threads that Florence weaves together, she still finds time to sew in patches of pre-existing pop culture mythology into her new creation. “Back In Town” revels in a hollow reverence for New York City, thus gifting us a break from the busier arrangements on the album and lyrics like “I came for the pleasure, but I stayed / Yes, I stayed for the pain.” The album’s closer, “Morning Elvis,” grounds Florence’s sobriety journey in the context of a missed visit to Graceland due to a hangover. These pop culture references sit alongside allusions to Greek mythology like “Cassandra,” a consciously self-important song inspired by the story of the woman who Apollo cursed with the ability to tell true prophecies that would never be believed, and “Daffodil,” a thinly veiled reference to the story of Narcissus.

Self-mythology is a given when it comes to popular music, but it’s rarely done in a way as nuanced and as meticulous as this. Dance Fever is a joyous record that clobbers you over the head with slow-burning grief to maximize the arrival of elation and some semblance of inner peace. As is the case with every Florence + the Machine record, Florence’s ethereal voice is the glue that holds everything together, but that’s not to discount how committed her band is to crafting soundscapes that accentuate every groan, gasp, and exaltation that she delivers. Pandemic-inspired records have been hit and miss across the board, but Florence & Co. have knocked it out of the park with Dance Fever.

Key Tracks: “King” | “Back In Town” | “My Love” | “Girls Against God” | “The Bomb”

Score: 85