Allie X - Cape God (Deluxe) (2021) Hi-Res

Inspired by a documentary about the opioid crisis, the pop singer and songwriter dreams up a fictionalized shoreline town where decadence is fueled by deep-rooted melancholia.

The glassine synthpop Allie Hughes crafts as Allie X often serves as a Trojan horse for the eccentric personas she invents. A classically trained singer, Hughes prefers characters and costumes, often donning bug-eyed sunglasses while performing songs that relish or wallow in being the outsider. On 2018’s Super Sunset, she vivisected life in image-obsessed L.A. through different female archetypes, resulting in a deft if interchangeable set that favored effervescent, ’80s-inspired pop. On its spirited follow-up, Cape God, Hughes heads to the East Coast for a more striking emotional reckoning, abandoning past alter egos and inserting herself in the troubles of a gloomy, fictionalized shoreline town.

Cape God was inspired by Heroin: Cape Cod USA, a harrowing 2015 HBO documentary about the effects of the opioid crisis on young people living in the seemingly idyllic Massachusetts vacation destination. The horrors of addiction surface in oblique ways here, but Hughes largely uses the documentary’s subjects as ciphers to reflect on memories of the inner turmoil she experienced growing up between Ontario and northwest Michigan. Cape God’s grim fables play out like a TV drama about debauched teens set to springy Max Martin-style production, setting stories of suburban excess to gothy synthpop and dramatic ballads.

The album’s fatalistic streak is familiar but compelling: Hughes dreams up a place where decadence is fueled by deep-rooted melancholia. She gets blackout drunk over handclaps and heavy synths on “Life of the Party,” where the propulsive backdrop feels at odds with the disturbing details: “Even when I nodded out,” she deadpans, “I was center of the action.” That kind of unflinching look at the abuse and depression borne of suburban ennui is a potent creative source for Hughes and makes for some of her most exciting work. “June Gloom” depicts the cold isolation of depression through fizzy electropop, and the swooning “Susie Save Your Love” zooms in on a main character who’s “too drunk to drive” and pining after a guy who doesn’t reciprocate. “Susie” is an especially bright highlight that features Mitski on vocals, though the two harmonize so closely that her appearance becomes almost anonymous.