Breakup albums are extremely difficult to pull off. In order to succeed, one must navigate a wide gauntlet of emotions without coming across as either crushed or petty. A great breakup album doesn’t just stick it to the other person; it celebrates the health and the freedom of the one who is making the music.
We are happy to report that Second Skin succeeds, starting with the cover image, where Nene H looks incredibly toned, self sufficient and strong. The back is to the camera, as if to declare that a former life is over, and a new life is well under way. The back is also turned to expectation, to false narratives and to any other person’s control. The second skin is the natural skin, the real, revealed self.
One need not have experienced a breakup to relate to the music, which pulses with industrial power, especially on standout track “Cradle,” wisely chosen as one of the set’s first singles. The opening sequence recalls Nitzer Ebb (“Join in the Chant”), the pounding drums increasing the club appeal. The artist’s voice appears first in repeated syllables, expanding to phrases, reflecting the title. One can already imagine the fevered nights in Berlin as this track dominates the speakers. What greater victory for an electronic musician than to own a club floor? The title of the other single (“Promises, promises”) is shared with a Naked Eye single and a 1960 musical, though the feeling is so universal that such things may have been forgotten. This track is more angular, swerving like an inebriated cyclist.
The full album offers a clear trajectory. The set rises from the advancing drone of “Where was I,” the question hanging in the air as Nene H loops and layers fragments of voice to create curtains of sound. The final seconds are far softer than one might expect, a near-silence or a pupae. “Back to Beste” is a techno-industrial banger, represented by a devastating bassline, while “Gordian knot” displays that hard, pounding beat. Nene H’s voice flows in and out, remaining on the fringes (save for “Bad Lala”), a reminder of humanity embedded in the heart of the machine. In the rubble of a relationship, one must often embrace the cold.
By “Deliverance,” Nene H has grown stronger – literally more muscular, as one can see, with the music to match. The melodies are filled with Asian inflections, the percussion intense, the vocals a series of barks and chants. The old Nene H is gone. The new Nene H benefits from the intensity of a tribe, the shared experience of rhythm and tritone beat. “The Castle” concludes the album in an uncompromising manner, not winding down, but remaining on its feet, much like the artist, who has become something new: a self-contained entity, beholden to no one. (Richard Allen)
a closer listen 