Serpentina
On Jillian Banks’ fourth album, the avant-pop performer has reinvented herself: Her alt-R&B sonic signatures remain, sure, but she’s leaned into the darkness. “Someone write my new name down,” she sings in the intro of lead single “The Devil.” “I’m the devil/Did they tell you I’m the devil?” The wickedness sounds good on her: “Misunderstood” is goth church, “F\*\*k Love” is glitchy trap production, “Burn” is a ballad from the great beyond, closer “I Still Love You” is a relationship dirge. Despite—or perhaps due to—Banks’ sophisticated approach to pop music, this is a deep album with unique pleasures: soulful harmonies, dance-driven bass, contorted synths, club-ready love songs. This is a new Banks, the result of a victorious battle with depression and anxiety attacks during the COVID-19 pandemic. Clearly, she’s emerged stronger than ever.
On Jillian Banks’ fourth album, she expands her musical world and grapples with the fall-out from gruelling ill-health
Three years, a global pandemic, and a diagnosis of an autoimmune disorder between albums, Californian alternative R&B singer/songwriter Banks returned with plenty to express on her fourth set, Serpentina.
Banks's 'Serpentina' asserts its uniqueness in paradoxically conventional and unsurprising ways. Read our review.
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