Marina – “Princess of Power”

The idea of capturing an album’s essence through a persona isn’t new for Marina; we already met Electra Heart, the alter ego who won over her (largely queer) fanbase in 2012. The album opener introduces us to a new figure: the Princess of Power, a character Marina embodies across thirteen tracks, and who gives the album its title. What becomes clear throughout these songs is twofold: first, this isn’t an especially innovative record; it’s more a return to a formula that’s worked for her before. Second: the formula works. Marina channels heartbreak and self-empowerment like no one else. Her blend of biting humour and artistic bravery allows for honest, unfiltered emotion. But does Princess of Power mark a return to form after a couple of plain albums?

Bearing in mind the pressure pop divas face when ‘coming back’ – a new era, a new look, new hopes and dreams – listening to Princess of Power, a highly personal project from a distinctive artist, raises questions about how novelty works within an artist’s established world.

There are fresh elements sonically: touches of synth-pop and disco-pop with ’70s/’80s influences, Eurodance and even R&B. But for those who haven’t listened to Marina in a while, it might feel like the last decade never happened. And yet it has — and much of what she’s experienced in that time is poured into this record. Butterfly, one of the teaser tracks, confirmed her return to form and her knack for distinctive pop songwriting. A reflection on personal growth, it harks back to the deeper cuts from Electra Heart.

The singles have played their role in the commercial success of Princess of Power. Cupid’s Girl delivers a classically Marina take on romantic self-awareness; Cuntissimo is a bold, unapologetic techno-pop anthem celebrating empowered sexuality, and clearly crafted to resonate with contemporary culture (wink wink, Gay Twitter). I <3 You is a bright, energetic love song that stands out as one of Marina’s most compelling, with shouted background vocals, a dialogue between synths and cello, and a lyrical explosion of vivid, fast-paced imagery. That paired with the music video, which became a visual centrepiece of Marina’s new LP.

Let’s dig into the album. Rollercoaster starts off sounding like reheated Hollaback Girl-era Gwen Stefani, but by the 1:12 mark (queen of finishing ‘tiktok-isms’), Marina surprises us with a lush, powerful chorus: “I’m on a rollercoaster ridе, ride. I’ve been low, but I know that I wanna get high.” Isn’t the desire to feel okay the most current political sentiment? 

Metallic Stallion, a polished pop track, offers genuine novelty in its lyrics. Marina reflects on her romantic misfortunes with wry sincerity, evoking shades of Elvis, The Smiths, and even The Cure. The irony is sharp in places, and classic pop phrasing like “No, my baby don't want, no, he don't want love” has her sounding like Lana Del Rey on antidepressants — and yes, that’s a compliment.

As an artist who has developed a distinct style over the years, Marina keeps the production pristine, and her sound remains unmistakably hers. Even when she experiments, her signature prevails. Her lyric mezzo-soprano voice soars throughout the album, effortlessly reaching high notes. On Je Ne Sais Quoi, there’s a mellotron — and honestly, that should be enough. But there are also strings, retro percussion, divine melismatic vocals, and a French refrain. This is a Friday-night treat for pop lovers. As long as love songs have clever twists like this, they’ll never go out of style.

And there’s more. Digital Fantasy is Marina doing Europop on summer holiday: the chorus nods to Alphaville’s Big in Japan, with autotune, lasers, and sonic flourishes reflecting on the disillusionment of dating app culture (say it, girl). Hello Kitty is a sweet, little gem about love and obsession in which Marina lays her feelings bare without flinching: “Babe, I'm intense, don’t you know what I meant? When I say I like you, that means I’m obsessed.” Her writing often uses humorous touches to express huge emotions, and it works beautifully here.

Marina’s best song remains Froot, largely due to its layered structure: pre-pre-chorus, pre-chorus, chorus, post-chorus — a progression that’s sonically rewarding. A similar effect occurs in Everybody Knows I’m Sad, where Marina reflects on the loneliness of single life. At her existentialist best, she confesses: “Maybe I'm not built for this kind of connection. Maybe I was born to live my life alone (Uh-uh, uh-uh). I can't even look at my own reflection. Don't want to admit that I've lost all hope.”

Before the album ends, we’re hit with Adult Girl, a genius, raw, piano-led ballad with stirring strings, in which Marina sings about growing older. The term is brilliantly deployed: for younger generations, ‘adulthood’ doesn’t mean what it used to. Sometimes we feel old enough, but our lives don’t match the timelines we once imagined. At one devastating point, she sings: “Now I'm too old to die young, but at least I had some fun. Spent my twenties on the run, dreaming of suicide and love.” It’s one of the album’s most powerful moments, echoing the emotional depths Marina has explored over the past decade; a mirror in which many fans will recognise themselves. Fun, humour, tears, and glitter co-exist in her sonic universe.

Princess of Power is what the doctor should prescribe if you’re feeling low. But there’s more to this than a powerful effort to cheer up the listener who might want to dance the pain way. “Marina is not a robot,” she warned us back in 2008, the first time we met her. The past decade hasn’t been easy for Marina or her career, and the fact that her singular voice in pop still shines on this record is not just testament to talent; it’s a declaration of commitment to pop as her life’s work.

This time, Marina Diamandis expands her musical references and offers one of her most honest visions yet. Princess of Power may not be her best album, but it stands as one of her most interesting. The concept of an alter ego might no longer land quite like Electra Heart did, but the character imbues the album with emotional power, thanks to Marina’s gift for channelling universal feelings into perfectly-crafted songs, carefully sequenced into a cohesive whole. These tracks could easily soundtrack your summer house party with friends, and more importantly, they offer hope. For music. For connection. And most importantly, for the future.