Dancing On the Inside: Kylie Minogue's Tension II

A Nostalgic Dive into Eurodance and Escapism, Kylie Minogue Reminds Us Why She Reigns Over the Global Dancefloor

Nothing like a Kylie Minogue release day to remind me that I am, without question, a gay man. I’ve spent most of it dancing around my home in my underwear, undoubtedly frightening my dog and, most likely, my neighbors. But let’s be honest—Kylie knows her audience. From the moment I hit play on the aptly titled opener  ‘Lights Camera Action,’ I was transported back to one of the many nights in the nameless gay clubs of Manhattan’s Lower East Side, ingesting god knows what and disappearing for a bit with god knows who, before stumbling out at dawn with someone who, in the harsh morning light, resembled a creature more Lynch than Greek god. A classic tale of youth.

But with Kylie, we’re not just in New York. Tension II continues a welcome return to the distinctly European sound Kylie mastered in the early 90s. Where Kiss Me Once (2014) and Golden (2018) leaned heavily into American pop trends, Tension and Tension II find her reconnecting with eurodance influences that shaped hits like ‘Come Into My World’ and ‘Slow.’ This shift isn’t just a nostalgic trip—Kylie’s embrace of European influences feels like a confident move back to her throne, reminding us why she’s always been a goddess of the global (maybe not always in the United States) dancefloor.  Tension and Tension II don’t just transport us back to those hazy, surreal club nights; they pull us through decades of Eurodance history. From the shimmering British new wave of the 80s to Berlin’s underground electro of the ‘90s, and even the pulsing Italodisco of the ‘70s, she takes us on a journey through the heart of European and queer club culture, all wrapped up in the kind of glossy production that only Kylie can deliver. 

Tension II is built for escapism — the kind that clearly involves me dancing in my living room, half-naked, while recalling those sweaty, body-to-body nights of carefree indulgence on the dance floor. It doesn’t matter where we are as the journey unfolds. From New York to Rome, the gay bars remain nameless, seedy, and sweaty, and the dark corners beckon with the same kind of surreal absurdism. With Kylie Minogue, the nostalgic hedonism of yesteryear, a vibe sorely missing from today’s sanitized and manufactured pop music, knows no borders. 

Now, I’ll be honest—most of the songs that make up Tension II are forgettable. While tracks like 'Taboo' and ‘Kiss Bang Bang' deliver the rapturous highs we expect from Kylie, much of Tension II gets lost in repetition. Songs like 'Diamonds' and 'Hello' feel like meaningless filler—catchy, yes, but lacking the lasting impact of her more recent hits. I wonder if they’re only seeing the light of day because of the upcoming Tension tour next Spring.

But here’s the thing—part of me thinks this flippancy is deliberate. The two albums together seem to capture the essence of one of those wild nights I mentioned earlier. By the time we reach Tension II, we’re too deep in the euphoria to care whether it’s necessary or memorable. In fact, we’d probably prefer to forget these nights. Kylie offers that kind of escape. If ‘Story’, the closer of Tension, is about letting go and embracing whatever comes next, ‘Should’ve Left Ya’, the sweeping final track of Tension II, is the sobering sunrise. It’s the moment the haze lifts, the night ends, and reality returns. It’s a melancholic reflection on the inevitable morning after—a comedown that every party knows too well. 

It’s no coincidence that Kylie has hinted her next album will be darker and more experimental, reminiscent of ‘Confide In Me’ and Impossible Princess. Eventually, reality seeps back in, as it always does. But for now, Tension II offers us a chance to escape, to dance away from our inhibitions, and to put shame back on the shelf.  For a brief, shimmering moment, we can be free. It’s what Kylie Minogue has been telling us since 2000’s ‘Your Disco Needs You.’

As Tension II comes to a close, Kylie softly sings over the fading beat of the night, which transitions into the gentle guitar of early morning, ‘Losing my head is not what I came for.’ Maybe not, but it sure is fun while it lasts.