When Kenna emerged in 2001, feted by such unlikely bedfellows as Chad Hugo, Michael Stipe and Fred Durst, megafame seemed like a done deal. But then his debut became mired in delays and record company changes and his moment seemed to slip away. The same hesitancy has bedevilled Make Sure They See My Face, which has been cancelled and rescheduled countless times.
For once it's easy to sympathise with the marketers and record company bigwigs. They may well have spent the last year working out what on Earth to do with this wildly eccentric concoction; a square peg record for a round hole mainstream. Over the course of twelve '80s-influenced tracks, Kenna and co-producers the Neptunes dip into prog pop, electro, psychedelia, apocalyptic prophesy, electro and pomp rock, almost as if it were all a conscious attempt to outweird arch rival Timbaland.
That this works even intermittently is something of a miracle, but it does, due to some shimmering production tricks and the undeniable energy of the enterprise. So Out Of Control (State Of Emotion) is built on an electro grind and swirling synths, over which Kenna delivers a near hysterical Marc Almond vocal, while the enormous, guitar-heavy Face The Gun is like an unholy but arresting marriage between Aha and the Sisters of Mercy. By comparison, Say Goodbye To Love is uncomplicated; one of Pharrel Williams' most effortlessly funky creations in too long. Meanwhile Baptized In Blacklight is a gorgeous, brooding ballad that Chris Martin might covet.
Less attractive are Kenna's ceaseless vocal grandstanding and the kind of lyrical gibberish even Bono would avoid: ''their black gold eyes understated the power of politic/ Wish we could rewind all the rhetoric'' he insists on Face The Gun. Pardon? Still, in a world cluttered with mortgage indie and anaemic R&B, Kenna's flamboyance is to be savoured, and this record is full of unpredictable pleasures.
