On her full-length debut, the feelings are large and the pop pyrotechnics are shrewdly deployed
The debut full-length from Imply Women and Secret Lifetime of School Women star Reneé Rapp begins with a placing picture: “Style the blood in my mouth,” she coos in the beginning of its opening observe “Speak Too A lot,” an excessive close-up of a neurotic thoughts in what is perhaps love. Spindly guitars and crisp percussion accompany Rapp’s worst-case-scenario obsessions earlier than exploding on its sugar-bomb refrain, which encapsulates early-adulthood angst whereas paying homage to Seventies energy pop with some well-placed “ooh-woo-ooh-woos”; its breakdown takes the idea actually by permitting Rapp to embark on the form of circuitous monologue that’s each crushed-out particular person’s worst nightmare.
And that’s simply the primary music. Snow Angel is a set of emotional rollercoasters in miniature, with the 23-year-old Rapp’s versatile voice dipping low and hovering excessive when the temper calls for. The title observe chronicles post-breakup despair with knotty metaphors and well-placed pomp-rock fireworks; its quiet-loud-quiet dynamics make it a extra summary tackle the neo-power ballad, though “The Wedding ceremony Track,” which marries a triumphant refrain with a sighed admittance that “perpetually received’t final,” is a worthy entrant into that canon. “Willow,” in the meantime, is a candy, pillowy ode to a buddy going via it, with Rapp shrouding her voice in velvety results and fluid guitar solos as she tries to stop her pal’s tears—or at the least take over weeping duties for a bit.
Rapp’s lyrics are reducing after they must be, too. The simmering synthpop reduce “Fairly Women” is a standout, with luxurious sonics and an insistent, instantly catchy refrain that sounds made for soundtracking get-ready-with-me movies, whereas its verses demystify the world of these rarefied beings. Throughout Snow Angel, Rapp’s lyrics are endlessly quotable: “sure, I’m a feminist/however bitch, you’re making it so onerous to me/to all the time be supporting girls,” she smirks on “Poison Poison,” a breezily infuriated ode to “the worst particular person on earth” leavened by some well-placed “la-la-la”s. (It ends along with her whisper-singing “fuck you” in a gleeful method.)
If something, Snow Angel is an indication that big-ticket pop has entered its post-SOUR part with gusto. (Alexander 23, a singer-songwriter who’s labored with SOUR producer Dan Nigro as an artist and who co-produced Olivia Rodrigo’s “Good 4 U,” produced the majority of the album.) The feelings are large and the pyrotechnics are shrewdly deployed, and Rapp’s searing soprano is up for the duty of matching their depth—even when she’s not sure of herself, as she is on the reflective album nearer “23,” a carefully organized overview of the anxieties she’s experiencing throughout her “Jordan 12 months.” “I hope that I can care much less/ however I’m afraid to care much less,” she muses because the album fades out, neatly summarizing the quandary skilled by anybody who’s been thought-about “intense.” Snow Angel permits Rapp to channel her larger-than-life feelings into twisty pop songs that take large swings whereas being keenly conscious of the human at their core.
