Review: Alison Moyet – Key (Cooking Vinyl)
★★★★☆

After seven years, and despite minimal activity since, Alison Moyet loses none of her powers as she delves into her solo past

Publicly quiet since 2017’s majestic Other, Alison Moyet admits that she’s done very little singing in the past seven years. Only when it was pointed out that it’s been 40 years since going solo did Moyet find an excuse to return to the studio: making a new album was initially a reason to go back on tour, her first love.

If that implies re-recording 16 old songs is a textbook stopgap, don’t worry: Key is beautiful in its own right, its often haunting electronics recalling 2002’s Hometime, the album where Moyet fell back in love with synthesizers.

With Other’s co-writer Sean McGhee promoted to a dual role as producer, the pair select wisely which songs to revisit. Of the three huge hits, Is This Love? and All Cried Out become smokier and more sinister, while Love Resurrection pops down the disco to resemble a John Luongo remix.

Moyet’s more obscure songs deserve their space to shine, too. Hometime-era B-side Tongue Tied is Key’s sweetest moment, a simple and unadorned breeze, while My Best Day – initially intended as a Moyet single, but ending up a 1994 Lightning Seeds album track – absolutely sounds a hit now it’s finally ‘her’ song, scooping up the listener as it flies past, full of drama and mischief.

Sumptuous Setting

Similarly, dramatic new track The Impervious Me glides along like Bryan Ferry’s finest noir, Moyet’s lyrics as enigmatic as John Le Carre, as she talks of “Laying out your raiment” while giving advice on how to only ever be yourself.

Mostly ignoring more recent work because she’s happy with the original arrangements, Filigree from 2013’s The Minutes is an honourable exception, reimagined as an intimate jazz ballad. It works, not least because Moyet’s vocals are sumptuous in the minimal setting: the way she moves gently through the gears on the word “screen” alone are an object lesson for anyone who confuses gymnastics with technique.

Sean McGhee’s Artmagic bandmate Richard Oakes, also guitarist of Suede, completes Filigree’s hushed atmospherics with lovely plucked guitar, one of Oakes’ several delicious guest performances. Only the undercooked This House betrays the intense workload to get Key ready for Moyet’s 40th celebrations: considering her lack of vocal exercise, Moyet sounds imperious. Her claim that her voice is now “whale-like” means Moyet can’t have heard her own falsetto on World Without End.

Any excuse to have new Alison Moyet music is welcome. That it’s with a record which shines light on a few of her dustier rooms, killing off a few demons over original arrangements as it does so, makes Key a marvel. Don’t leave it so long next time, eh?

Key is available here.

Read more: Alison Moyet albums: the complete guide