Review Summary: Accomplishing excellence through flaws
Is It Selfish If We Talk About Me Again (henceforth referred to as
Selfish) is a curious album. The second full length effort by Kacy Hill is rather obviously flawed, yet gets away with nearly all of these issues due to its highly charming nature. Moreover, the record achieves the level of authenticity and (flawed) humanity the title seems to suggest it aims for.
Selfish has some trouble getting off the ground, immediately showcasing several awkward and questionable production choices. Most prominently, Hill’s vocals are extremely prominent, with every word sounding like it’s whispered into the listener’s ear. While this may be somewhat off-putting at first, embracing the slight discomfort caused by this feels surprisingly pleasant. Simultaneously, however, this mixing of the vocals both accentuates the fact that Hill is an amazing singer and a slightly less amazing lyricist. Her words feel incredibly stream-of-consciousness; occasionally elegant, occasionally misplaced. For example, the chorus of ‘Much Higher’, the best song from the somewhat rough opening stretch, contains the lyrics:
I can't regret the way I loved you
Am I thinking too much about what I do?
Maybe forgiveness is a waiting room
It's nice to think that when I'm older
I could be good at getting closer
Maybe forgiveness is a waiting room
While the metaphor feels a tad amateurish (wait, why would forgiveness be a waiting room specifically?) and the overall theme appears rather vague, Hill’s velvety delivery makes it a rather pleasant listen. A similarly dubious aspect of
Selfish is the production of some elements of the percussion: during this aforementioned chorus, incredibly loud drums abruptly enter the mix, increasing in volume with each iteration. It’s odd, but again, with repeated listens the slight obnoxiousness wears off and it ends up feeling more like a charmingly strange choice that simply takes some getting used to. Moreover, this occasional ‘weirdness’ grants the album its experimental cred, while still remaining a full-on pop affair at heart.
Once ‘Porsche’ presents itself with all the typical shimmers of a delightful dream pop track,
Selfish rarely misses a beat again. The somewhat forgettable nature of the opening stretch is completely abandoned as every track fires off several razor-sharp hooks. Especially the buttery smooth R&B of ‘Everybody’s Mother’ works incredibly well, with Hill flexing her vocal range to the song’s full advantage. The contrast between the dreamy verses and heavy-hitting choruses is entirely captivating, whereas the subsequent ‘Told Me’ reprises the opening section’s trip hop leanings into a singular, much more effective track. It graciously incorporates vocal manipulations, with the low-key, off-kilter beat adding to the song’s oddly pleasing nature. It maintains the feeling that in spite of the album’s relative incompetence at being a functional collection of crowd-pleasers, this is for the better as every questionable moment ultimately leads to a greater appreciation of Hill’s songwriting efforts.
Maintaining this streak of excellence until the finale, ‘Dinner’ ends
Selfish on its strongest song. Its ethereal qualities are on full display from the opening lines, and while Hill’s descriptions of a blue-lipped girl kissing someone to driving on drugs remain somewhat, eh, disjointed, the pure conviction in her voice makes it an irresistible track. It’s the perfect ending to an album that’s unquestionably flawed, yet gains its strengths through most of these issues.
Selfish is deeply human, (thus) fully imperfect and without question one of the most enjoyable pop albums of the year.
