Electro-poppers Sofi Tukker’s third studio album, “BREAD,” is an acronym for “Be Really Energetic and Dance,” a mantra that the Grammy-nominated American duo of Sophie Hawley-Weld and Tucker Halpern have long embraced.
But before it was an abbreviation, “BREAD” was a literal reference. They view the doughy food as a kind of physical embodiment of energy; the carbohydrates keep them moving. And on “BREAD,” they want their music to do the same for their listeners.
Sofi Tukker is known to animate. Festival crowds have been drawn to the dynamic, colorful sets and multilingual, genre-agnostic sounds since 2017, when Sofi Tukker first played Coachella — a year before the release of the duo’s debut album “Treehouse.” Companies like Apple and Peloton have tapped their songs for campaigns, looking to harness some of their natural momentum. And while creating bossa-nova, jungle- and house-inspired pop has always been their bread and butter, they’re also trusted DJs with repeat gigs in the party capitals of Las Vegas and Ibiza, Spain.
With “Be Really Energetic and Dance” as a thesis statement, the new album is joyful even when it references less-than-optimistic subjects. Take “Throw Some Ass,” the album’s lead single.
“Hey Doctor? Can you give me something stronger? / I’ve tried everything you’ve offered,” Hawley-Weld lists the remedies she’s tried until landing on what works. “Throw some ass, free the mind,” she sings before the beat drops. There’s a deeper truth behind the feel-good approach — there’s a pain the dance masks.
And it works: the song pairs Hawley-Weld’s soft-sung, winking lyrics with chants and electric dance breaks by Halpern, to push forward their salve for suffering.
That’s felt on the lively “Spiral,” which reframes the time spent on a relationship post break up, and “Guardian Angel (Stand By You),” which finds support in dark times.
Nothing is predictable in Sofi Tukker’s collaged jungle-pop, but the creations are also intentionally accessible, as good dance music must be.
That’s true in “Cafuné,” written with Brazilian poet Chacal. The title, which doesn’t translate perfectly into English, is universal. That’s because the song opens with rapper Channel Tres laying out the band’s global approach: “I’ve never had anyone run their fingers through my hair like that before / You can’t even translate this type of s—-.” The setup gives listeners unfamiliar with the word the context to realize that it is a sensual idea, further emphasized by a staccato beat and Channel Tres’ slow-talking.
“Woof,” which features Nigerian singer-songwriter Kah-Lo, is another example: Halpern repeats the song’s central refrain, “I’ll make you woof,” in his lowest register. Hawley-Weld’s lyrics grab phrases from four languages — English, French, German and Portuguese — Kah-Lo provides a verse in English and Yoruba, and the underlying track unites the seemingly-disparate vocal sections into a sort of controlled chaos.
“Don’t need the alphabet to say I want you,” Hawley-Weld croons toward the song’s end. They’ll draw from their own instead. And it will be a good time.
