on the pulse - 2021 - #10 - olivia rodrigo, st. vincent, alan jackson, lord huron, squid

Man, this week it feels like I’m either in pure retro territory or with pop that gave me way too much to say - sometimes both at once! And that’s not counting the experimental material that’s tough to contextualize… whatever, I’m behind schedule enough as it is, let’s get On The Pulse!

Amy Shark - Cry Forever - …you know, my experience with Australian acts is that they often take an off-kilter or raw approach to sounds otherwise in the mainstream, even in pop… not making a rote copy of what’s already popular. Meanwhile on her debut album Amy Shark seemed like a budget version of Taylor Swift by way of Lorde and the most bargain barrel trap pop, and wind up utterly forgettable as a result, so I had no expectations about her sophomore project. And… you know, given that this has gotten no votes the past few weeks and little attention elsewhere, I’d be in the clear to veto this, unless I actually liked it… and I think I do. Believe me, I’m about as shocked as anyone, because this is just as derivative of Taylor Swift’s early 2010s pop material as ever but with a more contemporary sheen, but in comparison with how small-scale and clunky Amy Shark’s debut felt, in its best moments Cry Forever is at least trying to project its quaking angst onto a bigger palette, which is a natural fit for her throatier vocals. There’s definitely a lot of overexposed vulnerability here, but where someone like Julia Michaels would swaddle it in delicate, self-flagellating submissiveness, Amy Shark is trying for something a bit more raw where the struggle feels really tangible, be it a breakup for which she’s clearly not over even if he is, or an industry where she feels like she was getting eaten alive, because that is what happens to way too many pop starlets, especially the ones on major labels who don’t nab immediate chart success. What gets interesting is when Amy Shark juxtaposes this pain with her more reckless impulses on cuts like ‘Miss You’ and ‘That Girl’ and ‘Lonely Still’ and especially ‘Baby Steps’ which has the best groove on the album, or even the obvious cowrites from Ed Sheeran and Dan Wilson on ‘Love Songs Ain’t For Us’ and ‘You’ll Never Meet Anyone Like Me Again’ where her passion doesn’t fit into an easy narrative - how much of this is acting out of pain versus questionable judgement, and on some level how much does it matter if it’s therapeutic or just what she needs? That being said, while I like that for the most part the production plays to the more lonely, cinematic scope that can match Amy Shark’s intensity and pipes, outside of solid melodic fundamentals, some good hooks, and the willingness to sound a bit more jagged, I’m not sure all the production choices give her a lot to work with; faded guitars, more emphasis on clunky percussion than solid grooves, a lot of reverb - it would have played more effectively in 2014 or 2015, but in 2021 they can feel a bit overplayed and derivative. And when there is a wave of pop acts who are embracing more raw edges, this is playing it a bit safe. But this is still a pretty good pop album - not exceptional, but the best moments push this to a very light 7/10 - I can stick up for this.

Aly & AJ - A Touch of the Beat Gets You Up on Your Feet Gets You Out and Then Into the Sun - …really? Seriously, people care about this? Okay, for those of you who don’t remember, Aly & AJ were a pop rock duo from the 2000s that got signed to Hollywood Records, put out a few projects that apparently moved units thanks to being adjacent to the Christian music subculture and Radio Disney, and that I was just too old to be in their orbit given that they didn’t really have much in the way of charting hits, especially in Canada. And going back to it now… look, if you grew up in this era of pop rock this sound and presentation was dime-a-dozen, and Hollywood Records overproduction has dated it pretty badly. So after their second album of original material going electro-rock underperformed, and winding up in development hell for the next album, they changed their name, left the label, changed it back, and have struggled to assemble a full project for over a decade. Yeah, there’s been a few scattered EP compilations in the past few years but they haven’t attracted much attention outside of nostalgic diehards, but apparently their focus this time wouldn’t even be touching on the 80s sounds that inspired those, but a much more retro 60s/70s approach, which just so happens to be conveniently fitting close to the retro soft rock approach that’s been slipping into the mainstream the past few years… and that’s pretty much what it is. Seriously, if you imagine an Aly & AJ pop record, but with a sound somewhere between Lana Del Rey, Pearl Charles, and Jessie Ware backing them up, that is what this is. Now I tend to like this brand of retro-70s soft rock with touches of disco on a textural level, but being pretty damn intimately familiar with the original article means I know exactly when it’s underwhelming or undercooked, because if this approach doesn’t have great production or delivery or writing, it can get very boring very fast. And for as pretty as their harmonies are, it’s hard to ignore how a lot of these hooks are just okay at best, or how the duo is taking shortcuts in their production with more reverb, some clumsy mixing, and not nearly the warmth you would expect for this sort of windswept Bakersfield sound especially when they brush against soul or psychedelia - their producer Yves Rothman is competent but exactly doesn’t have a ton of credits, most well known for work with the Overcoats and playing synths on the last Yves Tumor album - or how despite the very winsome vibe the actual poetry is still pretty basic and does nothing to elevate the vibe over an album that runs longer than it should. This is an album leaning really hard on its atmosphere and glamour, but that means Aly & AJ are more riding the vibe than centering it, which leads to an admittedly pretty project that feels listless and undercooked and really forgettable… and given they’re now indie that kind of sucks to say, even if it leads to a few nifty moments like that misty guitar lick on ‘Lucky To Get Him’, or the out of nowhere late 90s dance rock jam ‘Listen!!!’. What this album reminds me of a lot is that independent Echosmith album dropped early last year - not much wrong with it and it’s generally pleasant, but it was clear what label polish and a focused approach did for acts that weren’t very interesting otherwise. light 6/10… and that feels really generous.

chloe moriondo - Blood Bunny - So last time when I reviewed dodie and highlighted the influx of restrained, primarily acoustic folk pop that gets hype and of which I’ve heard so much that doesn’t impress me, chloe moriondo was more of what I had in mind. Her 2018 debut was fine - you can tell she wanted the writing to carry the heavy lifting, but I wasn’t really that impressed, so hearing that her follow-up was going more pop punk was a bit of a swerve, although not surprising given that this is her first album on a major label. And after listening to this, the first thing I want to clarify right out of the gate is that this is more just 2000s pop rock, in this case with parallels to Ashlee Simpson, Hilary Duff, Brie Larson, or even that Tegan & Sara album from 2019 that is still way better than it got credit! Now I will admit I tend to be a sucker for this sound - I grew up with it and appreciate the nostalgia, I remember the acts that pulled it off well… and that’s where chloe moriondo skids off the rails, because even in comparison with the slicker songs from the acts I described, this is a woefully underpowered album. Not only is she a pretty underwhelming singer - Avril Lavigne or P!nk she is not in terms of raw power - It’s the reason the punk comparison doesn’t really work, the guitars have nowhere close to the consistent presence or power, with the drums nearly always carrying more texture and presence in the mix than the riffs which leaves the lead melody struggling for smash through. But that might not always be the point, as this is a project where each individual producer puts a noticeable stamp on the sound: David Pramik’s production is allowed cut loose and give the riffs a bit more weight, but then Pete Robertson takes over and gives the rougher guitar timbre blended with the synths more jangling, indie presence, or you get a cut like ‘Vapor’ that’s allowed to get a little rougher around the edges. But remember when I highlighted how the debut wanted the writing to do some heavy lifting… yeah, that’s back here as well, and while I’d argue there are good moments like the insecurity behind the ‘laziness’ of ‘Slacker’ or how well she delves into her lesbian relationship, I’m not sure there’s enough to overlook underwhelming vocals or how most of these hooks don’t have much muscle or sticking power for me. The album got buzz for having some cutesy/graphic juxtapositions inspired by Jennifer’s Body - man, that movie has had a influential shelf life for younger demos - but the edge doesn’t hit as starkly as you’d hope, and that leaves me thinking it’ll have more resonance for its teenage target audience than anyone else. 6/10… again, it’s got its moments, but not much that goes beyond.

Squid - Bright Green Field - you know there’s a part of me that wants to be cynical… actually, scratch, the part of me that is cynical about music in 2021 can’t help but see the rise of a certain stripe of layered, post-punk/post-hardcore experimental rock cribbing from Slint in earnest and thinking, ‘this is critic bait’. And I don’t mean that to disparage acts like black midi or Black Country, New Road - might slip Really From into this category too, because I’m among the folks for which this works - but it’s one of those cases where I want to be conscious of how much I like this because of marveling at the intricacy of the construction or writing versus how much of a sustained emotional core they actually have that’ll stick with me longer. So Squid is a prime test for this - hailing from the UK, the most obvious thing thing to note is just how much this band takes the horn-accented jittery complexity and rams it through with Talking Heads’ worship with a smattering of Ought and Parquet Courts, the latter coming through with more of a locked-in commitment to its steady rhythm section that makes me think Squid might wind up the most accessible out of this scene. But for as impeccably polished and balanced as this is with its coursing grooves and the tightly balanced synths, guitars, and horns bucking for melodic focus - Dan Carey’s production really does stand out here, and his track record has been up and down the past few years - what this reminds me a lot more of is Ought’s 2015 album Sun Coming Down, especially in its themes of being trapped within incomprehensible, oppressive systems and the utterly warped break it’ll cause for a discerning mind, expanding off of the surrealist, nightmarish themes of two Anna Kavan stories - less Kafkaesque and more focusing on the expanse itself that swallows you. But like that album there’s some of that same dark humour that prevents the sound from becoming a slog, as well as enough keen self-awareness to keep things populist - ‘Narrator’ focuses on someone so aggressively framing himself as the main character that he ignores the woman who is caught up in even more oppressive systems in favour of his projections upon her, which snaps in sharper into focus on ‘Peel St’. That said, it’s an album that still seems to distrust any sort of collective action, finding more intensity in the manic expression of being free wherever - ironic for a band that’s so controlled and in-sync with each other - and that means it doesn’t quite have the dramatic arc of Black Country New Road or the personal touches of Really From, or even the purest moments of ecstasy that Ought had previously. And when you couple it with the influences feeling so obvious… I still like this a fair bit, but I’m cooler on it than most. Solid 7/10, definitely good for this lane, the next album will probably be great.

Wreche - All My Dreams Came True - Okay, so imagine a black metal record where you swap out the guitars… for pianos. Now if that sounds a little nuts, that was my first impression upon hearing about this sophomore album from this Oakland act, so to get a handle I checked out the 2017 debut and…. well, that’s exactly what it is. And let me start by saying that just as a one-off anomaly, on a compositional level it is intriguing - the piano work is probably closer to jazz in order to support a well-balanced groove section and the distant howls of our frontman, and even some of the melodies were distinctive, but I found myself wondering if the keyboards could create a little more atmosphere or bite; that distortion is a key element to a lot of black metal’s sound and appeal, so I had to wonder how they would expand the sound and capture it. And… well, it’s promising, but it’s haphazard, and there’s a part of me still not entirely convinced that this is elevating beyond its central instrumental conceit. In order to build more dramatic swell you can tell there was some symphonic elements, both choral and what sounds like contorted synth strings woven to support the shredded vocals and wild percussion, and I won’t deny it further contributes to the haunted elegance of the composition even before they tack on some howling, glitchy synth passages. But there’s a part of me that’s still absolutely convinced this album needs a bassline of some variety to add more groove and ramp up the ominous punishment being delivered, or maybe just a little more low-end variation to help diversify the melodies, especially on an album that runs as long as this one with so much manic melodic complexity. And I do think the the writing is good: definitely impressionistic and drilling into some pretty standard ‘we are all damned amidst a modern, uncaring world and religion is going to fail us all, even if our protagonist finds some delirious, sneering comfort in knowing the ‘truth’ about faith, some form of bleak, hidden knowledge, the further they go the less satisfaction they find, the gut-churning consequence of all those dreams actually coming true is that there’s nothing to replace them. It’s the underside of success in an unjust world, where by the end they’re seeking whatever scrap of frail beauty to offset the numbness, which to their credit the piano-driven approach captures that haunted elegance remarkably well. And yet, while I do think this is a more fully formed and dynamic project than the debut, which felt more like a pilot to see if the idea could even work, a bit more expansion is needed to make this truly great. Solid 7/10, definitely going to keep my eyes on this one.

Sons of Kemet - Black To The Future - So the last time I reviewed Sons of Kemet, it was free-form while I was on vacation in the U.K., so I would be completely understanding of anyone who wanted me to expand on my thoughts from there, or at least give the chance to provide them in a more organized manner. Because Sons of Kemet were certainly intriguing in their socially conscious balance of African polyrhythms and textured percussion with jazz, but I had quibbles with the drum mixing and despite some charged lyricism how quickly this could slip into the background for me, but I also know that some of this comes with me being someone who’ll gravitate more towards melody than the frankly excellent drumwork here. But again, I didn’t dislike what I heard on their last album, so I really wanted to give this one more thought and a closer examination… and this feels like a bit of a lateral move? Don’t get me wrong, it’s still really good: the drumwork is textured and much better blended while still feeling organic, the horns are more diverse and we get more distinctive solos, when we do get some spoken word raps they are universally excellent in balancing out just how Black people have found their core of righteous power against both active and systemic oppression, some of which highlights how being pushed to the brink with no quarter given means they have no qualms responding in fair kind, but also so much just wants to be left alone and to live and peace, both the opener and closer with Joshua Idehen are striking as hell… and yet that’s about as much as I can really add! Now some of this is me wishing again for a more defined low-end groove beyond just percussion and the tuba, but the larger issue here might be with its best moments, especially when there are any sort of vocals: the writing is literally so good that it makes me wish there was more of it; it stands out so starkly that even if there are more showy solos, they don’t hit with the same urgency or impact in contrast. Granted, this album also brings in more Caribbean-inspired rhythms and melodies on cuts like ‘Think Of Home’ and ‘For The Culture’, and they don’t quite have the same emotive pull for me, but I can’t knock the album for that because this is so obviously not made for me and I expect the target audience will likely get a lot more homespun comfort to it… even if I do think a few more songs with lyrics interspersed throughout the back half of the album might help some individual cuts stand out a bit more. Ergo, for me it’s a solid 7/10, but I’m comfortable acknowledging this is outside my regular wheelhouse and if you’re more into Afrobeat and experimental jazz, you’ll likely get more from it.

Lord Huron - Long Lost - …so full disclosure, I was planning on covering the newest Panopticon album in this slot, but since it normally takes a while for Austin Lunn’s lyrics to wind up online, I’m now stuck with… Lord Huron. Now to my credit I’ve briefly mentioned them before back in 2017 when their song ‘The Night We Met’ nabbed a chart position thanks to its inclusion in 13 Reasons Why, but in going through their catalog at large… well, outside of being broadly familiar with a few cuts like ‘Ends Of The Earth’ thanks to a few too many TV inclusions, why do I get the feeling I’m now discussing an act on the folky side of commercialcore? They certainly came out of that wave in the early 2010s from the obvious cribbing from the intersection of Mumford & Sons and Fleet Foxes, and while I can admire surprisingly good compositional instincts, there was a real lack of refinement and subtlety in the writing and production - to say nothing of rather underwhelming vocals - that didn’t really grip me over the course of their back catalog, especially when they followed Mumford’s path and went indie rock complete with some truly egregious production inconsistencies. And now here… well, I’ll say this, I certainly get why a number of critics are losing it over this, given that Lord Huron have once again followed the pack and hopped on the retro singer-songwriter craze, this time expanding some of their jangling western influences into making something between the baroque pop of the 60s and the countrypolitan sound of the 70s, complete with the oversaturation of reverb to make it sound modern and even with voice over snippets that sound imported from a cheap radio show! So in a word this is an album that is shamelessly pandering to any retro fetishists with this sound… but again, as someone who does like this sound, while I’ll agree that this is a more interesting tone for Lord Huron, I’m not sure it’s all that well-executed. The production remains the biggest problem: blown over and hazy, the vocals pushed midway back into the cloud, where it might not even surprise you that they end the album with an extended ambient piece that’s actually pretty good but is entirely in this territory, which might lead to impressive texture but it can only disguise underwhelming vocals and compositions for so long. And yeah, I include the writing here - said “radio show” features a fictional singer-songwriter making plenty of lovelorn songs only to come to the slow realization that said relationship was probably doomed for all the right reasons, as both life-long partners seem at best losing interest and at worst unfaithful. But this is where the more earnest vintage presentation that’s completely unable to sell darkness and a lack of greater lyrical detail leaves me scrabbling for more to elevate this beyond imitation, especially as nobody seems all that likable here and ends on the mantra ‘what does it all mean if it all means nothing’. And that places the album in an odd spot: outside of the relationship songs it’s clearly trying to comment on its place with the weight of history, and carry itself with so much pomp and circumstance, but the stories being painted don’t really sell it beyond ‘Twenty Long Years’ or - funnily enough - the ambient piece at the end, which fits the abstract swell remarkably well! I dunno, this is an album that feels like it’s trying to write itself into a history that’s long passed it by, trying to rest on a legacy it never built - the best retro pastiches either take old sounds in a cool new direction - that’s your Kyle Craft - or use them to comment on the modern world by painting with them, which even if I don’t like her material that’s something Lana Del Rey can pull off. This feels like the latter but with ideas that feel severly undercooked - the sound is certainly the most agreeable it’s ever been, and if you don’t have a collection of vinyl from that era so you know what the original sounds like, I can see some being impressed. But I have that collection of vinyl, and ‘I’m just not: 6/10, I remember when this was done better.

St. Vincent - Daddy’s Home - And speaking of retro… you know, I’ve been worried about this album since the lead-off singles left me with a weird vibe where I was left hoping the album would give them more context, especially as she was going into retro-70s glam as well… but unlike Lord Huron, St. Vincent has had a pretty impressive run of excellence across the 2010s, and that left me with expectations. And that kind of blows, because this is the sort of album for which I understand the appeal and I think I get what it’s trying to do, but on a textural level it just loses me and that feels incredibly frustrating. A big part of this I’m going to blame on Jack Antonoff - maybe he thought that his work with Lana Del Rey equipped him for this sort of mid-70s funk/soft rock fusion with goopy dollops of phasing psychedelia, but not all retro tones work the same and a lot of his production touches come across as stiff and overarranged, trying to synthesize the chaotic vibe when it’s not coming naturally. Granted, some of this I do place on Annie Clark as well, because for as much as she clearly idolizes Bowie and Prince and they were not immune to this sort of experimental misfire too, but they were more convincingly languid and loose than she can really sell - and yeah, I include her attempts to get more soulful and raw on this album too. And yes, while I get the undercurrent of hazy, drugged-out, New York anxiety is part of the point and Clark has no problem playing in the uncanny valley, this is an album that wants to hone in on a human experience that it has trouble quantifying. And this is where we need to touch on the content early, specifically its two interweaving arcs: the return of her father from prison where he went for stock manipulation, which has led to some messiness with music journalists probing into this territory, and how she increasingly wants to buck against feminine expectations placed upon her - she wants to carouse and fuck freely and not have kids, embrace willful irresponsibility, the roots of which you could place at the feet of being confronted with a returning father figure for which she seems to have issues but also embracing plenty of the parallels. Now again, the struggle bucking against traditional feminine expectations has been a theme in St. Vincent’s work since the beginning, it’s what makes albums like Strange Mercy so uncomfortable and powerful - but this scene feels closer to home, and I don’t think she was prepared to deal with the added complexities in making her story more personal. The conversation around prison is where that tension is probably most apparent, because St. Vincent will reference the indignities of mass incarceration and she’ll reference Black artists in both her writing and sound on this album. And I dunno, it just feels “off” to draw a parallel between systemic injustice and her father’s own white collar crimes in the service of capitalism, especially when she still has a sense of privilege that she hasn’t quite contextualized which lets her reference calling the cops multiple times across this album on a part of her own recklessness, and that can lead to cognitive dissonance when she’s trying to skate by in a patriarchal system, find a balance between ‘surviving’ and ‘dignity’, according to her. But factoring in an attempted historical parallel to the 70s along with commentary on the modern day feels even more confused and undercooked - if this album had stuck with a smaller scope, it probably would have been considerably more effective, especially as she still has a knack for probing into fractured and flawed humanity, including her own, much moreso than historical pulls that feel like a reach. And look, as much as I can point to examples of tUnE-yArDs’ 2018 album or parts of Sam Fender’s debut and highlight how writing about privilege from this point of view is often messy and incoherent, I think my larger issue is if I felt like this came together in themes or sound, I’d be more forgiving of the awkwardness, because there’s a seed of an interesting emotional crisis point and parallel here… but if you were expecting hooks to rival her best in the 2010s, this album will leave you wanting, and I don’t think it comes together as a whole. For me it’s a solid 6/10 - an interesting experiment that doesn’t stick the landing, but if you’re more into this sound and you can look past the messiness, I guarantee you’ll like this more.

Alan Jackson - Where Have You Gone - The funny thing with any Alan Jackson review is even though I’m overjoyed we have a new album from him - a behemoth of a thing six years in the making with twenty-one songs - you know pretty much exactly what you’re going to get from the man: the sort of deeply rooted, neotraditional country with rich, robust arrangements that go down amazingly smooth with every peal of pedal steel and fiddle, only accentuated with Jackson’s voice that has only picked up more deep richness and body with age, even if you can tell he’s steadily slowing down with time. And here’s the thing: I’m a big Alan Jackson fan but I know across his career he’s more known for fantastic singles runs over consistently strong albums, even if there are a few scattered exceptions, so I do question the choice to go for broke for so long on this project, especially as he’s got one remarkably agreeable sound that he doesn’t tend to vary all that much. Now this is alleviated by the fact that his choice of instrumental tones and his production with Keith Stegall remain impeccable, and he likes giving his band a little space to breathe, and you can tell he’s long stopped caring about chasing the single… and if there’s one thing I appreciate most about this project, it’s how well it fits his age. Alan Jackson is in his sixties, and to be fair he’s always made music like he’s the oldest and most mature guy in the room even on his “party” songs - people forget that even on ‘Chattahoochie’ when the girl isn’t ready they go get burgers and ice cream instead - and for a more cynical audience it’s made his material either corny or mawkishly sentimental. But there’s a lived-in, unpretentious nature to his writing and sense of detail that comes with a lot of self-awareness - and by now he’s got nothing left to prove - and while it’s absolutely more traditionalist and conservative, it’s so tastefully earnest and empathetic that it’s hard to dislike, especially as he’s now in the position to not have to care about the industry… which is why it’s a bit exasperating when he still does in his ‘bringing country music back’ songs, where after a solid opening title track we get ‘Back’, which is probably the most openly regressive song on the album - country never left, you just have to look a bit harder to get it, and even now in the mainstream sounds that he likes have momentum! The other problem is that as comfortable of a listen as this is, it does run long courtesy of some awkward pacing choices, and can feel redundant in moments - he has multiple songs dedicated to his daughters for their wedding day, and I definitely wish there were more storytelling cuts like ‘The Boot’ that could add more to the sprawl of this thing. But at the end of the day, this album might be custom-built for your parents if they’re a little older… but they need great music too, and I’m treating this in much of the same way I treated Reba McEntire’s album from 2019: at this point of their careers, it doesn’t need to be this great, but I’m thrilled that it is. Light 8/10.

Olivia Rodrigo - SOUR - There was a part of me that was kind of shocked by just how much praise SOUR got from mainstream and independent critics… but that part of me ebbed back in record time: of course critics would like this. Pop with traces of a rock edge and reasonably smart writing behind someone with legit charisma and singing chops, but also commercially huge so you can punch your poptimist card and maintain your indie cred, I’ve been down this road many times before. That’s not saying I disagree - yet - but I’m also canny enough to see when the industry has a bonafide star coming off of Disney and can give them the budget and exposure that so many of Olivia Rodrigo’s peers would kill to have! What I’m saying is that while I’ve liked a lot of her singles thus far, I also had fairly low expectations, and I was conscious of where the hype was rooted. And… yes, it’s pretty good for what it is - and I don’t mean that as a backhanded compliment either. SOUR feels very Gen Z high school all the way down, and presuming you can suspend disbelief and recognize everything the average high schooler does not have to make an album like this, there’s a lot in terms of texture and writing style and even production that can feel authentic to that experience. And yet it’s probably not a great thing to start when I can hear the very obvious points of influence, Taylor Swift being the biggest but in reality this brand of teen pop with just a hint of an edge has been a thing for about twenty years now - and I know this because I grew up in the last wave of it in the 2000s, where pop starlets like P!nk and Avril Lavigne and especially the pop rock and ‘emo’ boom of that decade laid a lot of that template, especially Paramore, and as I mentioned in the last episode of Billboard BREAKDOWN, the parallels might be a bit too close in spots if you know what to expect. Hell, a few days ago I found an unofficial mashup of ‘good for u’ and ‘Misery Business’ and not only does it make complete sense and could actually work in the context of this album with Hayley Williams ‘playing’ the bad guy, it might be the best thing associated with either artist in years! Now I’ve seen criticism that this album can feel one-dimensional in its teenage break-up storytelling, but I’m going to give it a pass here because a.) it’s pretty well told with detail and surprising nuance to flesh it out, especially on a cut like ‘enough for you’, and b.) if you’re a teenager, this sort of melodrama would consume your life in microcosm anyway - this is an album that thrives on creating realistic immersion with an emotional logic to its throughline - and I give Rodrigo points for finding notes of maturity in acknowledging her own culpability, and then to step away and move on by the end in ‘hope ur ok’. Where I have a lot less patience is in the execution - thank God this album is a quick half hour, because it is ballad heavy with some pretty basic underlying compositions, and when it tries to rock a bit harder it has nowhere close to the texture or intensity to sell it well - and no, not just compared to the 2000s, we can look at all the teenagers making heavier music right goddamn now just outside the mainstream, and that’s not even touching on the obvious touches of Billie Eilish on this project. I have to wonder if some of this is a Disney act issue, that Rodrigo can’t sound too raw or intense or that her ‘rock’ elements have to be desaturated, kind of clunky, the obvious sounds of a major label studio trying to fake the DIY that can’t quite nail the rawness, and I kind of wish there was a better balance between the edge and the glossy pop cuts; this album is a bit too tasteful to go for broke in either. That being said, ‘driver’s license’ is a great single, ‘good 4 u’ in any incarnation only gets stronger with every listen, and even if nothing else on the album gets close to that level for me, I had my anthems in the 2000s and I hear the lineage of relatability. 7/10 for me - kids, have fun.