Kesha Rose Sebert has had a rough time of it these past few years, dragged through a never-ending legal case with her former mentor, Lukasz “Dr Luke” Gottwald, whom she accused of rape (he denies and is counter-suing).
The Californian diva has found catharsis in the most characteristic music of her career, spanning the hyperactive disco that scored her multiple hits in the early 2010s and the country-tinged rock she says she has always yearned to make (against the wishes of Dr Luke).
“Don’t let the bastards bring you down / Don’t let the asshole wear you out,” she trills on the singalong acoustic opener Bastards, as bold as you would hope from a woman who once rhymed “famous” with “anus” but now has a new sense of purpose.
It turns out Kesha has many gifts: a fresh way with a melody, a cute Nashville twang and an unmistakeable gift for communicating emotion.
Praying, the central ballad, begins with a startling spoken-word death fantasy and blossoms into a survival hymn that somehow keeps building in intensity, until it feels a bit like being blasted by one of those supersonic hand-dryers.
The self-empowerment speak does become a little grating at times (see Learn to Let Go), but the stylistic range is impressive, from thrash punk to retro soul — and few would begrudge her the success.
