Review Summary: Vapid and delirious in all the wrong places, 143 is a disastrous fatal accident for all involved - particularly Katy Perry in a leading role.
Katy Perry's new album is reminiscent of a glass of water on a scorching day: it's something, but it fails to quench your thirst. The collection serves up an unholy cocktail of clichés, with each track simply reiterating oft-heard phrases in a dull and uninspired context. This isn't just disappointing; it reflects a complete disregard for modern music trends and listener expectations.
Perry seems trapped in a self-imposed bubble, afraid to step away from the familiar pop formula that once brought her massive success. The album reveals a profound struggle with the same problems that have long plagued her career: formalism and banality. Rather than taking risks, experimenting, or offering anything new, she resorts to regurgitating her previous hits. Her vocals, usually one of her strong points, sound fatigued and lifeless here, as if she is merely reciting the lyrics rather than singing them with passion.
The lead-up to this album was marred by three lackluster singles that performed poorly on the charts and garnered negative reactions. From attempting to craft a feminist anthem with a producer accused of sexual misconduct to tackling themes of environmental disaster, the choices felt tone-deaf and misguided.
Among the missteps is the track "Woman's World," which has the audacity to attempt to nestle into the "EDM from 2009" genre, complete with childish synthesizers and an overly simplistic beat. This supposed anthem of female empowerment appears desperate, trying to ride the coattails of Perry's past successes but ultimately offering a superficial and formulaic experience. The lyrics fail to resonate, as her signature wit and charm have been replaced by painfully banal phrases about female empowerment. The song's message remains unclear, and Perry's detached performance only exacerbates the weakness of the lyrical material.
Lines like "She's a winner, champion / Superhuman, number one / She's a sister, she's a mother" feel more appropriate for a child’s sing-along than a serious anthem, rendering the entire song an absurd joke rather than a genuine call for liberation.
Similarly, "Gimme Gimme" is one of the most unfortunate entries in Perry's discography. The track revels in a nymphomaniacal self-love that is expressed through vulgar and inappropriate clichés, sounding more like a preoccupied student's verse than a polished pop song. The endless repetition of the same motif quickly becomes tiresome, echoing sentiments from a decade ago without any relevance. The collaboration with
21 Savage, who boasts about his appeal, feels like a regression back to the heights of "Dark Horse," rather than an evolution of Perry's sound.
In a futile attempt to salvage the situation, Perry delivers "Lifetimes," a track that seems to be stuck in a late '90s party vibe but lacks both charm and nostalgia. The vocals come off as completely artificial, stretched like gaudy decorations on a lifeless landscape. Ultimately, the song circles back to the same tired verse and chorus, more suited for a commercial jingle than a daring comeback: "I know you feel it / Can you believe it? / I'm gonna love you 'til the end / And then repeat it." Each line feels devoid of substance, echoing the sterile emptiness of overhyped advertisements.
"I'm His, He's Mine," purportedly a response to "Dark Horse" featuring the ambitious
Doechii, falters in its attempt to offer insights into romantic relationships. Instead, it reduces metaphors to flat images, provoking questions about Perry's courage to navigate the music industry as time moves on. Lines like "I'm his queen, I'm his freak / I'm every woman he wants and needs" are delivered in low, haunting frequencies, yet it’s painfully evident that Perry lacks conviction in her own words. The maddeningly repetitive melody, notably built on the iconic sample "Gypsy Woman (La Da Dee)" by Crystal Waters, feels more like a persistent nightmare than a captivating hook. Perry's overly sugary vocal style grates on the senses, making it tempting to throw down your headphones in frustration.
This album is drenched in the club aesthetics of the past decade, with the most notable track being "Nirvana." The song kicks off with a promising introduction, where shimmering synthesizers and deep bass create a tantalizing anticipation. However, the tragic irony is that it's a feeble attempt to resurrect the worst elements of early 2000s club music. Each second of this track serves as a painful reminder of a complete lack of taste and creativity, making it difficult to engage with.
In "Crush," Perry lightly flirts with her listeners in a coy manner, but the song's dull arrangement leaves little to be desired. The uninspired refrain "My heart goes / La dada dee dee / La dada dee dee" epitomizes the blandness that permeates the album, echoing the soulless electronic sounds we've been subjected to on radio stations for far too long.
The overarching theme here is a disappointingly clear picture of a creative crisis. The track "Artificial," a collaboration with JID, is an overloaded mess of effects and awkward vocal techniques. It veers dangerously close to the realm of the unlistenable, sounding as if it were the cry of a wounded animal. This is not the vivacious and creative artist we once adored.
Amidst the sea of mediocrity, however, there are fleeting moments of clarity. "Truth" stands out as a rare oasis in the bland desert of the album. With cold beats setting the mood for introspection, Perry manages to sing about the cooling embers of a relationship, suggesting that the truth may provide answers. Yet, lyrically, we’re treated to the same age-old narrative of love and heartbreak, invoking a sense that Perry has exhausted her well of inspiring ideas.
Tracks like "All the Love" reflect an aesthetic reminiscent of a sun-soaked California beach from a decade ago. While the instrumentation attempts to deliver a breezy vibe with restrained percussion and occasional synth flourishes, it ultimately falls flat, leaving no lasting taste or impact. "Wonder" concludes this uninspired collection. The melody, while light and catchy, meanders through familiar chords and predictability without offering any noteworthy surprises. Perry sings about universal themes of love and happiness with a vocal performance that is emotionally involved yet still lacks the allure that characterized her earlier works.
143 had a unique opportunity to explore Katy Perry's artistic impulses in greater depth, adding thematic variety and conceptual complexity to her music. Unfortunately, it squanders that potential and is left bogged down in banality, resulting in a disheartening experience for fans and newcomers alike. The irony of this release lies in its timing; arriving a full decade after her previous successes, had it emerged then, it might have helped maintain her status at the forefront of pop music. Yet, in 2024, its anachronistic sound and lyrics serve as a catalyst for a descent into obscurity, leaving listeners to question how an artist of Perry's caliber could miss the mark profoundly.
