Mø - Forever Neverland

Pitchfork 60

The Danish electro-pop chart-topper’s second album is dedicated to the quest for eternal youth; too often, though, her overbearing club songs merely kick against the onset of adulthood.

The Guardian 40

(RCA)

It was almost six years ago that Danish singer-songwriter Karen Marie Ørsted, known as Mø, first began to pop up on “ones to watch” lists. In 2014 she released her subtle, dark pop debut, No Mythologies to Follow, and since then has racked up global hits in the form of collaborations with Major Lazer and others. Yet there remains a sense that somehow she’s yet to break through in her own right. It’s a sense that, sadly, won’t be dissipated by this much-delayed second album.

There are great moments: Way Down, about a would-be star in LA who fears they’ve missed their moment, is pure and pulsing Scandipop with new age overtones, and the beguiling, Balearically uplifting Nostalgia, with its cocky half-rap. Most interesting is Blur, whose neurotic acoustic guitar references the Pixies’ Where Is My Mind, with soft-focus synths and dreamy, treated vocals. But beyond those, too much is forgettable: the sunny, 90s R&B-inflected pop of I Want You threatens to “burn this fucking house down”, but does little more than nudge the thermostat. It’s certainly too damp a squib to break Mø out of her strange forever hinterland of almost-there.