Kerli

Kerli's crafted another world for us. It's a world where creativity reigns, boundaries don't exist and possibilities are endless. On her debut album Love is Dead (Island/Def Jam), the 21-year-old Estonian artist explores years of pain, loss and sadness through music that simultaneously recalls the raw catharsis of KoRn's groundbreaking debut and the ethereal, sonic witchery of Portishead's now-classic Dummy. Love is Dead is more than just "alternative music;" it's alternative art. Kerli's vision extends far beyond the notes recorded on her CD, and that's instantly apparent from her twisted fairytale aesthetic.

On the title track, she paints a tangible picture of desolation and heartache. Her voice seamlessly shifts from an entrancing, hypnotic croon to a strange, pained wail. However, she never loses sight of the melody. Even though the first track is dark, it's extremely catchy. "Walking On Air" begins with a creepy keyboard lullaby, and then it segues into a huge chorus. The song's both lyrically empowering and musically enlightening.

On "I Want Nothing," Kerli's serene scream clashes with a distorted guitar crunch. "Bulletproof" shows Kerli at her most vulnerable. Her soft vocals drown under overpowering, industrial synth textures. She sounds like she's constantly fighting for air—but in the most beautiful way possible. The song sweeps the listener away in a whirlwind of weird aural textures, and it's easy to get lost in the emotions evoked. "Up Up Up" and "Butterfly Cry" convey transformation, evincing a highly developed insight. The closer, "Fragile," is somber, but at the same time uplifting, because her honesty comes through so unabashedly.

Kerli doesn't fit in any kind of box. There are flourishes of alt rock, industrial, electronica, metal and trip hop throughout the record. The one thing she does adhere to is the hook. These songs aren't easily forgotten, because Kerli can carry a melody to oblivion and back. Ultimately, Kerli's onto something that could be very significant for the disenfranchised, disillusioned 21st century youth.

Love may not be dead after all.

—Rick Florino
07.07.08

Nobody asked for a mix of Björk, Natasha Bedingfield, and Evanescence's Amy Lee, but that's what Kerli offers -- served up with a touch of gothic Lolita -- on her debut album, Love Is Dead. It's an odd blend of influences, but these songs have enough quirks and enough polish (courtesy of producers David Maurice and Lester Mendez) to be mainstream and strange at the same time. At her best, Kerli brings a bewitching mix of light and shade to her music. "Walking on Air" is the finest example of her spooky yet uplifting sound: her slight Estonian accent adds a subtle otherness as childlike, whispery backing vocals that sound like they come from singing dolls hover over skittering breakbeats, while the moody, string and brass-laden bridge could have been borrowed from Björk's Selmasongs. Despite its theatricality, it's a surprisingly subtle yet catchy song. "Up Up Up" and "The Creationist," which skips along on a charming, spiraling piano loop, also show off Love Is Dead's sweetness and light. However, when Kerli ventures deeper into darker territory, the results are mixed. "Love Is Dead" sounds like Amy Lee covering "Army of Me" (in a good way), and the fiery "I Want Nothing" and industrial dominatrix rock of "Strange Boy" -- which rhymes "innocent" with "magnificent" -- show that Kerli can brood convincingly. On the other hand, the very Evanescence-ish power ballad "Bulletproof" gets too close to predictable melodrama, and "Hurt Me"'s masochistic rock is run of the mill. There's nothing typical about "Creepshow," however: a minor-key but funky dancefloor workout, it sounds a little like Fergie's "London Bridge" transported to Eastern Europe, but even stranger than that. It may be odd, but it's not boring, and the same can be said of most of Love Is Dead -- despite its faults, it is one of the most unique albums released by a major label in 2008. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide