Sophie Ellis-Bextor Has Finally Gotten Her Due in America

Before autumn 2023, you probably didn’t know who Sophie Ellis-Bextor was—especially if you’re not English and especially if you’re not a millennial or older. She’s never made an appearance on a US chart, but Ellis-Bextor’s music has been around since the 1990s, though—when she fronted a band called Theaudience and then went solo at the turn of the 21st century. Between 2000 and 2007, she had nine Top 25 songs in the UK, including the #1 hit “Groovejet (If This Ain’t Love)” she made with Spiller. In 2015, it was revealed that “Groovejet” is the best-selling vinyl single since the turn of the millennium. It’s safe to say that this recent resurgence around Ellis-Bextor’s work is not one of divine happenstance. No, her music has been on many radars for a while, just not here in the United States. But now, finally, is she getting the global due she’s been so properly owed.

Recently, the second single from Ellis-Bextor’s debut album Read My Lips, “Murder on the Dancefloor,” has exploded in popularity—all thanks to its inclusion at the end of Emerald Fennell’s divisive new film, Saltburn. Whether you were famously seated for the flick or have seen the mirage of post-viewing TikToks or something in-between, you’ve heard “Murder on the Dancefloor” at least once in the last two months. Of course, nothing can top Ellis-Bextor’s awe-inspiring, generationally mystifying grooves soundtracking a scene where Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan) elaborately dances naked across the halls of the Saltburn mansion he has just inherited through the Catton family fortune. Bare ass, floppy cock, lines of coke and dimly lit halls included, it’s one of the most memorable scenes of any film from 2023—a feat in itself, given how the sensationalism of Fennell’s vision has superseded the plot, substance and emotional resonance of the film itself; a rare trifecta of aesthetic over substance.

But I cannot get on TikTok without bearing witness to a Saltburn meme or reaction video, even though the movie has been out since mid-November. (Editor’s Note: This is my own fault, I am Saltburn-pilled to a delirious degree.) Because of its recent addition to Prime Video, it’s become much more accessible, too, and, whether it’s daughters convincing their families to watch the movie during the holidays or a hilariously apt cap-cut about Keoghan’s character’s escapades (grave fucking, blood-play and grandiose, criminal deceit all included), “Murder on the Dancefloor” is now always nearby. It’s not new territory for a film or television show to bring fresh excitement from a new generation to a song that’s more than two decades old. I mean, look at what Stranger Things did for Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill” in 2022. The power of the internet, streaming and nostalgia is a heavy cocktail—and “Murder on the Dancefloor” is just the latest all-time banger to get a retrospective star-treatment. And like the conversations around Bush’s masterpiece, it’s time I state the obvious: “Murder on the Dancefloor” is the best dance song of the last 25 years. I don’t think it’s a close race, really. The only competition, to me, is either Beyoncé’s “Virgo’s Groove” or Robyn’s “Dancing On My Own.”

Fennell using “Murder on the Dancefloor” in Saltburn—just as she did with MGMT’s “Time to Pretend,” Bloc Party’s “This Modern Love” and Pet Shop Boys’ “Rent”—was done as a means of sentimentality, or a makeshift high-brow way of putting accessible pop and indie rock music into a film that has a focus so deftly positioned on upper class possessions, attitudes and the fragility of old-fashioned materialism. Whatever you feel towards Fennell and her writing, there’s no denying that the music in Saltburn was done with a precious intentionality. And, like “Running Up That Hill,” “Murder on the Dancefloor” has a significance that exists beyond the gaudiness of the frames it illuminates. It’s as much a plot device as the infamous bathtub drain or the Saltburn Estate maze. But I’m not here to tell you how great “Murder on the Dancefloor” is, though. You already know it’s sensational and massively catchy. It went platinum in Australia, was the 12th-highest-selling single of 2002 and was reported by the Daily Telegraph as the most-played song in Europe that same year.

What I am here to say is that Read My Lips is the most underrated dance record of this century—and, perhaps, the best modern attempt at disco altogether. It was produced by Moby, Blur bassist Alex James and New Radicals frontman Gregg Alexander, which is just a murderers’ row of names to put behind any record, let alone a debut. Read My Lips is the kind of album that is a star-making turn, and that’s what it was for Ellis-Bextor. It’s certified 3x platinum in the UK, to no one’s surprise, and produced four Top 15 hits (“Take Me Home,” “Murder on the Dancefloor,” “Get Over You” / “Move This Mountain” and “Music Gets the Best of Me”)—three of them peaking in the Top 3.

Read My Lips is packed with stadium-sized theatricality. It’s the kind of nu-disco joint that, if not executed perfectly, will come across too campy for its own good. What’s fascinating to me is that, at the time, critics were pretty split down the middle on the record. Q Magazine didn’t believe that the project stood up as tall as “Groovejet” had two years prior, while The Guardian claimed that it was a “sophisticated package” with little fun to be had. AllMusic called it a “disappointing debut.” Likewise, Read My Lips didn’t quite garner much attention in the states. Yahoo! Music reviewed it, giving out a 5/10 score. Andrew Arora from Blue Coupe placed the album somewhere on a spectrum bookended by Pet Shop Boys and Parallel Lines. I think that assessment is an accurate one, though Ellis-Bextor’s work has a cinematic architecture more akin to the former.