EUROTRIP
The New Yorker|September 18, 2023
Romy's exuberant solo début.
CARRIE BATTAN
EUROTRIP

In the opening moments of Romy Madley Croft's début solo album, "Mid Air," the British singer makes a request: "Can you turn it up a bit more?" It's an entreaty often heard from musicians, usually either onstage, as a rallying cry, or in the studio, as an urgent demand. Coming from Madley Croft, though, it's a surprise. As a vocalist and guitarist for the British trio the xx, Madley Croft's signature has been a kind of hushed timidity, her voice often barely rising above a whisper. It's a key to the spare and downcast style of the xx-made up of Madley Croft, the bassist and vocalist Oliver Sim, and the producer and keyboardist Jamie Smith, known as Jamie xx-who have released three albums since they formed the group, as teen-agers living on the outskirts of London. The lyrics for the xx's selftitled first album, from 2009, were largely written by text messages sent from their respective childhood bedrooms, partly because all three were so shy.

Stylistically austere but emotionally rich, the record had a sensibility that spoke to introverts and impressed star-making blogs. Despite the quietude of the music, which at times bordered on morose, the xx became unexpectedly influential, transcending their status as indie darlings. They topped charts in the U.K., were sampled by Rihanna, and won the prestigious Mercury Prize. And yet they never made the sorts of bold leaps common among breakout artists looking to secure lasting commercial success: signing with a major label, touring constantly, collaborating with pop stars, engaging in endless self-promotion. During the past fifteen years, their evolution, like their music, has been measured, and this restraint is a large part of their appeal. The musicians remove, rather than add, elements to their songs, leaving big, breathy pockets of apprehensive space between bass lines and drum kicks. They make their public personas seductively scarce.

This story is from the September 18, 2023 edition of The New Yorker.

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This story is from the September 18, 2023 edition of The New Yorker.

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