Review Summary: Well, some people deserve a bit of vanity.
All is Vanity is, without a doubt, what Christina Grimmie fans needed after the shocking tragedy that preceded its release. The first posthumous record from the wonderfully gifted singer who was murdered after an Orlando concert at the far-too-young age of 22, this is an inspiring piece of music that’s practically oozing with sincerity and empowering lyrics. The ending of “Everybody Lies” says it all: “You’re strong… own it.” Hearing that line might bring a bleak meaning in light of her untimely fate, but it’s also an uplifting sentiment to hear at the same time. A lot of tributes and memorials naturally create a somber and downtrodden tone, but
All is Vanity feels less like a mourning of Grimmie’s death and more like a celebration of her life.
What we have is a tight collection of electropop bangers, showcasing a large array of emotions ranging from love to sadness to regret to tenacity to anger. The album might be adorned by synthesizers and arena-ready electronica beats, but it’s made clear from the beginning that Grimmie’s presence is the beating heart of the experience. Her vocals have just the right variety, diversity, power, and passion to immediately deem the record worth the price of admission. With that said, there are some interesting experiments to sink your teeth into, such as the Victor Wooten-esque slap bass that fleshes out “Sublime” or the quirky trill-like vibratos on “Invisible.” In any case, the production is both glossy and highly detailed. You can really hear the way the basslines and the wide variety of synths interact, almost as if they have a personality of their own. There are some arrangements that lean on the traditional or organic side; the classic soul balladry of “Crowded Room” sounds like Grimmie taking a page out of the Amy Winehouse playbook, just a little less “smoky.” There’s also the stripped down piano work of closer “The Game,” providing a nice respite after such an energetic album.
In fact, I would have liked a bit more variety in the end product. For all of the great vocal performances, they aren’t always accompanied by as much adventure as one might like. At least the record’s pop core stays consistent throughout, but the songwriting could have been taken a bit further. In “Echo,” Christina’s soulful harmonies are beautiful and well-executed, but they’re hampered by a sterile, generic musical backdrop that doesn’t benefit her strengths as a performer. “I Only Miss You When I Breathe” goes down the same path, but goes even further by having a really repetitive and standard chord progression that renders it completely forgettable. Also, Christina’s vocals tend to be overdramatic and overdone at times. Yes, she had an amazing voice, but despite the level of both talent and control she had over it, she still overused a lot of excessive vocal gymnastics and melisma that simply drown out how good the instrumentation can be from time to time. But the positive side of that is that she still exercised a great deal of different techniques and a wide range of moods to overcome this flaw, if only to an extent. And when she really shines, such as the explosive climax of “Sublime” or the gorgeous subtlety during the verses of “Invisible,” it’s goosebump-inducing.
At only 35 minutes, perhaps the most tragic thing about
All is Vanity is the fact that we’re listening to the blueprints of a music career that will never happen. Had Christina Grimmie lived and kept honing her craft with this type of music, she might have taken a place alongside the modern pop legends a la Florence Welch or - dare I say it - Justin Timberlake. But at the very least, we have a
voice that can someday take a place alongside them.
All is Vanity may not be a grand masterpiece of pop music, but it’s a hell of a fun time. It’s a focused, polished slice of synthpop fluff that’s anchored by an amazing amount of personality and a powerhouse vocal performance. Beyond that, it’s a fitting posthumous tribute to a gifted singer-songwriter who left us too damn early.
