Review Summary: I want to be me, is that not allowed?
I'm pretty hopeless with love, I hate flowers (unless they're dead), I can't sit still for more than 10 minutes, but I figure out my heart and mind through poetry, and melody - Lola Young
Lamenting romantic misfortune is hardly a revolutionary concept in the world of music, and it’s easy to understand why. To varying degrees, such events can be profoundly wounding, and are probably the most commonly experienced form of emotional trauma amongst those of us who dare brave the sun and actually talk to people. Strip mining that festering microcosm of turmoil and setting the yield to music can be incredibly lucrative, especially if marketed in the correct way. Profitable it may be, but quids in hand doesn’t always equate to an indication of quality, and in all truthfulness, it takes a special type of creativity to land the intended resonant haymaker after so many middling, repetitive, sanctimonious soliloquies passed off as pop (special thanks to my lawyers for their assistance in constructing the previous sentence). Rising UK talent Lola Young manages to not only land these punches flush, but also deftly entwine the rawness of her lyricism with a messy yet controlled aesthetic that ultimately crafts an intoxicatingly sincere R&B record, smoothly orchestrated but as honest and ugly as I get with a drink in me. Signed to the same label and under the same management as Amy Winehouse, comparisons are inevitably going to be made between the two artists, which is reasonable considering the considerable overlap between the two and their stylistic traits. Young, however, has a quintessentially modern edge to her sound that sets her apart from the tragic star, and it is in this unique personality manifesting that the album really comes together.
Poetic and infrequently verging on stream-of-consciousness, Young’s thoughts, hopes and fears are laid bare across eleven fleeting but superb tracks. Her breathy, understated tones are accentuated beautifully by the ardent musical style, whether by the mischievous strings of ‘Wish You Were Dead’, the reggae contour of ‘Big Brown Eyes’, or the airy mildness of ‘Intrusive Thoughts’. The lyrical content is simple yet candid, presenting an artist able to convey her tumultuous experiences in a manner that is full of character and enchantingly introspective. In ‘Walk On By’, a toe-tapping ode to an unfaithful ex, Young balances her sense of regret with a justifiable vindictiveness, declaring,
You have little outbursts of sad
And I know you got that from your dad
But right now, I don’t have time for that
You got fifteen minutes ’til I call your cab
And I never want to see your face again
Making use of a see-sawing yet infectious hook, the music corresponds with the content by betraying a weary familiarity with the unpleasant romantic situation, the unhurried delivery additionally conveying her regrettable lack of surprise. Other times, it’s Young’s vulnerability that comes to the fore,:
You laugh at every joke that I make
And that makes me feel alive
Probably because I usually don’t
There might come a day
When I don’t get to kiss your face
But I tried my best
And I love you tonight
And you noticed
‘You Noticed’, a tender, minimalist ballad, is perhaps the best showcase on the record for Young’s poetic, unfiltered style. The joyous yet understated execution reads as someone reluctant to believe the words they are saying, almost reticent to sing too loudly for fear of ruining the moment. It’s heartfelt, passionate and digestible, providing a revealing portrait that remains extremely detailed despite its lucidity.
Young’s vocal and lyrical presence are undoubtedly the most memorable aspects of the project, but there’s a smoky, classical heart beating throughout the featured instrumentation. Whether the cut is downbeat, reflective or carefree in tone, this electricity is always there and pulsing through all of the composite elements. The percussion coaxingly pitter-patters through an assortment of bass, keys and classical strings, sporadically accented by warped electronic flourishes. It’s very R&B led, but the more contemporary elements keep the effect quintessentially modern, assisted in no small way by Young’s unmistakeably modern use of language. The lightly ethereal, bubbling melody of ‘Walk On By’, for example, blurs the line between the two eras by utilising a repeated fill after the chorus in the vein of a modern pop track, forming a brief but firm shunt from one style to another and back again. This selection also features a buzzing electronic element that is introduced with all the verve and ceremony of a full orchestra. Elsewhere, ‘Conceited’ and ‘Crush’ merge their jazzy mischief with rowdy rock roguishness, but far from feeling incohesive, the two aspects complement each other and serve the topicality of their respective songs splendidly well. The language of the music throughout
This Wasn’t Meant For You Anyway is steadfastly linked with the lyrical focus of each individual song, and although the young singer may seem stylistically unrefined, this is a choice that exhibits a delicate complexity far beyond the norm of typical chart music.
The aesthetic of
TWMFYA evokes memories of manually tuning to a radio station, or of playing an old, dusty record from your parent’s collection. The crackles, hisses and general static that push through and becomes one with the music in an intangible and indefinable way; a convergence of effects both intended in the moment, and acquired over time. The hazy sense of antiquated character omnipresent within the production merges with the more contemporary characteristics within the sound, which is then layered with the uncompromising, poetic bluntness of Young’s lyrics. It leaves the listener feeling as though they are experiencing her unfiltered thoughts, or excerpts from a well-worn journal, her scribbly shorthand lifted directly from the page. After the enjoyable but transient
My Mind Wanders And Sometimes Leaves Completely, this release is not only a remarkable step up for the singer, but also an impactful and resolutely individual artistic expression in its own right. Despite the shifts in vibe throughout, the LP defiantly, even petulantly remains consistent with its core aesthetic, and manages the impressive feat of feeling both cohesive and disparate simultaneously. There’s a familiar yet unique stylistic marriage to be found, and although a lot of the tracks are variations on a familiar theme, the person at the centre is so magnetic in her vocals, lyrics and storytelling that the experience feels apart from many similar artists. The album artwork, an extreme close-up on Young’s face, is an apt choice to represent the content; unclouded by pretence, with personality front and centre at all times. The content is raw, warm, personal, acid-tongued, poetic, and, given Young’s age, remarkably accomplished.
