Kesha, High Road review: A mature and defiant reclamation of lightness

If Kesha’s last album was an exercise in catharsis, ‘High Road’ is its powerful sister record, and awash in contemplative hedonism

A story of trauma and recovery: Kesha’s ‘High Road’ (Dana Trippe)

A track towards the end of Kesha’s fourth album finds her performing a duet with herself. Or, at least, an old version of herself. “Kinky” is credited to both Kesha and Ke$ha, the dollar-signed moniker that she abandoned in 2014, five years after she came to fame with the morning-after, puddle-of-vomit anthem “Tik Tok”.

Kesha’s abandonment of Ke$ha operated like a form of emancipation, amid a wrestle for more creative control over her music and a long-running legal battle with her former producer Dr Luke. In 2014, Kesha accused the formerly ubiquitous pop mogul of sexual and emotional abuse, allegations he has denied. He then countersued her for defamation and breach of contract.

Kesha’s subsequent story has been one of trauma and recovery. As a result, her last album, the cathartic Rainbow, traded electro-pop bangers for glitter-strewn glam rock, inspirational ballads and duets with Dolly Parton. But her new record, and its nods to the bleary-eyed Ke$ha of yore, embodies a reclamation of the lightness once stolen from her.

High Road’s actual sound isn’t too removed from that of Rainbow, stocked as it is with confessional torch songs and introspection. But there is a powerful frivolity to much of it, and a feeling of mature hedonism. It’s most notable on “Shadow”, a tender gospel track in which she lays down her right to be happy again. “Get your shadow out of my sunshine,” she urges, “out my blue sky, out my good time”.

Other songs take a similar tack – there’s the lush dream-pop of “BFF”, a collaboration with singer/songwriter Stephen Wrabal, and the sombre if over-it country ballad “Cowboy Blues”. “Did I f*** my whole life up?” Kesha asks, over an acoustic guitar. “Did I miss my one true love? Was he right in front of me at the dive bar? Was that you with the cowboy blues?”

When High Road embraces more overt power-pop, however, it becomes slightly less sure of itself. There’s often a sense of Kesha struggling to align her modern musical identity with the sound that ushered in her earliest successes, leaving certain tracks feeling awkwardly stitched together. The title track and the noisily over-processed “Tonight”, in particular, struggle to meld two distinct Kesha pop modes.

Meanwhile, single “My Own Dance” alternates between lyrical cringe (“Don’t circumcise my circumstance!”) and a far more intriguing bitterness (“Shake your tits and f*** it … What’s a girl to do? Is this what you want? F*** you”) that the album, somewhat disappointingly, doesn’t revisit.

There are far more highs than lows, however. The aforementioned “Kinky” is an irresistible piece of stomping camp, borrowing the melodies of Carly Rae Jepsen and the lairy confidence of the Spice Girls. “The Potato Song (Cuz I Want To)” is the greatest Flaming Lips track the Flaming Lips never recorded, and single “Raising Hell” is a wonderful ode to waving your freak flag high. “This is for the misfits of creation,” Kesha sings. “Take this as your holy validation.”

As much as High Road doesn’t always cling together, it’s an admirable statement of defiance and survival. It’s the album equivalent of someone who can finally handle their liquor. Someone fresh out of their twenties and contemplating life via moments of late-night melancholy, as opposed to worrying implosion.