Nikki Nack

The album thrums with vitality and elation.

It's freeing and inspiring and a wondrous odyssey of class-consciousness. [No. 109, p.58]

There are no immediate anthems like whokill's "Bizness" or "Gangsta." But these 13 tracks hum and bounce with contagious enthusiasm, posing a challenge worth rising to.

Sonically, Nikki Nack is a joyous record which sees Gabril bursting at the seams with restless energy and tremendous creativity.

It's an oddly nourishing album that's as big a step forward for tUnE-yArDs as W H O K I L L was from Bird-Brains.

She may sing about her belief in herself faltering, but her sincerity is actually stronger than ever. The victory here isn't just that Nikki Nack betters Whokill by beefing up its feral ferocity with more sophisticated chops, or that she triumphed over her detractors by proving she hadn't already peaked. Garbus found power in a hopeless place.

At times, there seems to be almost too much to process in Nikki Nack, and it’s true that this is certainly an album that repays multiple listens and complete immersion. That immersion will pay dividends, for Merrill Garbus has produced yet another deftly thrilling listen.

Nikki Nack frantically succeeds on so many levels. Garbus ticks every box with aplomb and swagger, making a record that’s confrontational, boundary-bending, enigmatic, topical and sheer fun outside the usual channels.

Nikki-Nack is an outstanding successor to W h o k i l l and the year’s most memorable pop album yet.

On her third full-length, Nikki Nack, her love of music that's rich with history still makes for propulsive listening, even if some references are willfully obscure.

Gone is the chipper ukulele of w h o k i l l and BiRd-BrAiNs; Nikki Nack signifies maturity while still allowing room for Garbus to do zany things.

Nikki Nack is a terrific album with charm and invention to spare. [Jun 2014, p.58]

An album bursting with adventure and originality. [Jul 2014, p.83]

A unique and thrilling voice forging a new folk tradition. [Jun 2014, p.122]

A more contemplative tUnE-yArDs? No bad thing when the goose-bumping post-punk gloaming of Time Of Dark is among the unexpected bonus. [Jun 2014, p.88]

At certain points in Nikki Nack, like the track Manchild, her quirkiness feels out of reach, but it always comes back down again to teach you a little something about life, love and letting creativity shine through.

The result is another unique and captivating record, one that melds dancehall reggae, hip-hop, Haitian percussion and a dozen other styles as if they were always meant to be together. [Jun 2014, p.111]

For tUnE-yArDs, definition remains elusive and extraordinary.

tUnE-yArDs' bright and playful exterior might deter some, but Garbus and Brenner bask in quirk without it ever clouding the tracks' overall purposes.

Sure, there aren’t quite the visceral heights that the best tracks on w h o k i l l provided, but you will not be thinking that during Nikki Nack’s best moments. Listen to the words she says, let them sink into your head.

Garbus’ approach to her lyrics is indicative of tUne-yArDs’ artistic mindset as a whole, as she lets her creative energies run free while never losing sight of a sense of purpose and meaning to Nikki Nack.

Her third LP, cut with bass-minded partner Nate Brenner, suggests an innovator in for the long haul.

The songs splatter unpredictably with little concern for cohesion, forming a whole that is emphatically unique.

Rarely does an album consider life's eternal struggles in quite this way: searching for answers with its eyes wide open, and silly string in its hair.

Because despite the weight that this album carries, the overall feel is of a celebration of life itself.

The dance songs on here awaken muscles of yours that might have fallen asleep over the last few years.

This is invigorating, wilful and wildly exuberant--and one senses an invitation to collaboration with David Byrne might be in the post.

It's the force of Garbus's personality that holds these clashing parts together, her blunt promise that "I've got something to say"--and her surprising sense of fun.

At its best, it’s the purest yet expression of Garbus’ exploration of the corporeal: an album with sounds you can see, a voice you can feel, and music you can all but touch.

Her pipes stand out most on Wait For A Minute: interestingly enough, it’s when she sounds softest (surrounded by cool R&B-inspired synth lines) that she’s most commanding.

The result is a thoroughly cross-cultural album dripping with soul and iconoclasm. It’s fun, too.

The self-harmonization superimposed over extreme syncopation and electronic looping on nikki nack sometimes teeters on too heady.