August 6, 2025
Madeline Kenney’s latest release 'Kiss From A Balcony" is like an enjoyable fever dream
If Madeline Kenney’s Kiss From The Balcony were a dinner party, "Scoop" would be the guest who shows up early, already dancing, wearing sunglasses indoors. It’s loud, it’s bright, it has no shame. Synths bounce around like sugar-high toddlers, and Kenney sounds like she’s hosting a disco séance. You’re not sure what just happened, but you’re into it.
@The Red Museum
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Chaotic good or just chaos
The rest of the album feels like someone spilt glitter into a blender, shiny, unpredictable, and somehow sticky. Rumour has it, Kenney recorded the whole thing in a week. That tracks. Some songs sound half-finished, others like they were recorded upside down in a dream. But maybe that’s the point? It's not so much a tracklist as a personality test: do you like your pop with a side of confusion?
Kenney continues to throw everything she has at the canvas – sometimes to the detriment of the listening experience – but there are real moments of sonic genius. The sound here ranges from somewhere between Björk and Kate Bush to some beautifully stripped-back, folky tracks (‘Cue’ is a lush impressionist painting of strings, led by Kenney’s anguished voice). It feels more like a showcase of her breadth as an artist than an album with a particular world of its ow
"Slap" slaps, but not in the usual way
Then there’s "Slap," a track that takes your expectations, chews them up, and spits them out into a kaleidoscope. It’s not a song, it’s more of a sound collage with commitment issues. If Brian Eno and a malfunctioning robot got together and made a mixtape, this would be on it. It’s weird, it’s wild, and weirdly... works?
Trivia
Before pursuing music as her primary artistic outlet, what other fields did Madeline Kenney explore?
The moments that almost make sense
Every now and then, a song pops up that feels like it could’ve been on the radio, if the radio were run by sleep-deprived poets. "All I Need" almost plays it straight, until Kenney’s vocals start twisting like a haunted voicemail. These brief flashes of clarity are like finding a clean fork in a drawer full of sporks, unexpected, but appreciated.
A beautiful mess with good intentions
Kiss From The Balcony doesn’t care if you like it. It’s bold, it’s messy, and it refuses to be normal. Is it perfect? Not even close. But it’s full of guts, glitter, and glorious nonsense. For fans of pop that’s had one too many espresso shots, this album’s your jam, or your jarring experimental jam-like substance. Either way, you’ve been warned.