MARINA - Princess of Power
Cuntissimo?
After a four-year break, MARINA returns with Princess of Power, a record driven by a quest for self-discovery, love, and emotional openness. It’s an attempt to be playful, accessible, and vulnerable — a vision that fits neatly into the aesthetic that originally defined her as Marina and the Diamonds. This is the version of MARINA that became a Tumblr-era cult icon, and Princess of Power feels like a deliberate return to that blueprint.
And therein lies its paradox.
Princess of Power sounds like a natural continuation of the Marina and the Diamonds trilogy. The issue is that trilogy ended ten years ago. Since then, MARINA has released two studio albums that now feel oddly out of place within the broader narrative arc of her artistry. This is especially noticeable when reflecting on Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land, her previous album, which marked a softer, more introspective, and poetically political reinvention. I personally saw that record as a step forward — an evolution toward maturity and a new creative identity.
With Princess of Power, we’re thrust back into electropop territory — laden with clichés and laced with elements of europop that feel dated. The lyrics are often painfully simplistic, making it hard to connect with them on any deeper level, particularly for those of us who’ve followed MARINA’s artistic evolution for years. This isn’t modern pop music, for better or worse. If we compare it to what currently tops the Spotify charts, perhaps that’s a relief. Yet stylistically, this album feels more appropriate for 2017 than 2025.
That’s not to say there aren’t highlights. “Metallic Stallion” is a standout track, and “Adult Girl” offers glimpses of something richer. The title track, “Princess of Power,” also holds up well. But those moments are undermined by weaker cuts like “Hello Kitty,” the chorus of “Everybody Knows I’m Sad,” or the album’s shallow midsection.
I recently had the chance to attend one of MARINA’s live performances, where she debuted several tracks from this album. Even in that setting, the songs didn’t quite land with the punch or presence she may have intended. The moment that was supposed to be serving Cuntissimo simply wasn’t Cuntissimo enough.
Ultimately, Princess of Power lacks ambition. It’s a passable listen, but ultimately a forgettable one — the kind of album you play once, pull a few tracks into your playlist, and leave behind without much thought.
It talks about love, fear of love, emotional vulnerability — but in a way that resembles a teenage fanfiction more than an adult pop record. And while there may be comfort in the familiar for longtime fans, Princess of Power ultimately falls short of delivering anything truly powerful.
6.0/10
