Christine Moad, who records under the moniker Miss Christine, gave themself an unenviable task: to take the dumpster fire of the last three years and turn it into music.
Their latest album Bittersweet released in June, and in both its construction and its resultant music, this is a pandemic album through and through. None of the musicians who play on the record were ever in the same room together, and the musicians all recorded and communicated through a music software called LANDR. In spite of this, the album is both sonically cohesive and verbally focused, a musical dispatch rooted in a not-so-distant time.
Opening with the power rocker “Can’t See,” Miss Christine proves to be adept at tackling whatever genre that the song calls for. For example, “Love With You” feels like a 2010’s pop radio ballad with a slightly stronger drum beat. “Isn’t It Funny“ plays a little closer to the charm of a ‘90s-era indie strummer.
Throughout the album, Miss Christine invokes love and understanding, and it feels earnest every time. But their music is arguably most successful when it leans a little further into the weird. From a seemingly straightforward pop number, “I’m Not Okay” increasingly grows exasperated, repeating the line: “How long must this go on?” When the titular payoff finally does arrive, not only do we believe the admission, we feel a communion with it.
On “Google University,” they tackle a 21st century threat: “the buffoons who graduated Google University.” With a wry eye and unapologetic approach, Miss Christine takes down fake moon landing believers and COVID-19 deniers alike. The word “buffoon” is rarely used in pop songs, and this song highlights what a shame that is.
“My Brain” holds the key to the entire album. Here, they channel pure doom pop for a two-minute tone poem full of pandemic-era angst and musical catharsis. “2020” ends with a plea for hope, but the song’s greatest strength is in its lumbering and justified anger. On the bridge, Miss Christine sings “Has anyone read the history books? / This country was founded by a bunch of crooks.” Though it ends on an optimistic note, it’s a full three, seething minutes to get there.
Across 10 songs, Bittersweet establishes Miss Christine as both a hook-seeker and lyrically incisive songwriter, equally as comfortable in a straight ahead pop chorus as a punk rock breakdown. The fact that this album was recorded entirely independently and pieced together afterwards speaks to the strength of these songs and the respective players, including Will Larson, John Tyler Kent, Andrew Teutsch and Alex Ricchiuto.
But make no mistake: this is fully Miss Christine’s show. Playing the bass and standing in front of it all, on Bittersweet, Moad captures the full gamut of the last three years. Now, with a slate of area performances throughout the summer, it’s clear Miss Christine is only getting started.
This article was originally published in Little Village’s July 2023 issue.
