Review Summary: Just a [Country] Girl
Clearly, the rickety pop-goes-country bandwagon is still cantering along, mercilessly trampling underhoof any inquisitive onlooker before they can earnestly enquire, ‘why though?’. Now, just when the miasma of dust and cowpats left in the wake of
Cowboy Carter’s five-horse team seems to be clearing, a new challenger approaches… and if nothing else, it’s certainly an interesting change of pace for the former No Doubt singer. Where a lot of the artists who have adopted the braying yeehawisms are planted firmly in the industry limelight, Stefani had the advantage of minimised expectancy, not to mention the toe-dip of two previous pop-country single releases with husband Blake Shelton.
Love Angel Music Baby,
The Sweet Escape and
This Is What The Truth Feels Like showcased incremental refinements in style between them, and while
Bouquet does feel like an aggressive sidestep, it still manages to remain somewhat in-keeping with Stefani’s approach, if only in the attitude. While the Just A Girl-Hollaback Girl-Country Gal arc may be bizarrely endearing, there’s an acute regression at the achy-breaky heart of
Bouquet, being all but devoid of the playful, slightly atypical edge that set her apart as a pop performer. The name slapped on the front of the project still carries some weight, and buried within the twangy melodies there are instances of what gave her this initial cache, but so unappealing is the musicianship and lyricism it’s extremely difficult to regard
Bouquet as anything other than a disappointment that took over 4 years to wind up an indiscriminate rear kick to the mouth.
As the title and lurid album art suggests, the maypole placed at the centre of this tepid release is ‘love’. Observed through the lens of idealism, pragmatism, nostalgia and melancholic yearning, the theme is explored exhaustively purely because of how thoroughly it saturates every second. It’s all extremely simplistic, making use of very basic songwriting and repetitive choruses to really ensure that kick leaves a throbbing, twittering concussion. The stronger aspects of the album are undoubtedly when Stefani’s spirited pop imprints manage to pulse through the thick hide of the aesthetic, notably on tracks like ‘Marigolds’ and ‘Purple Irises’. With the latter, Stefani employs some pleasant vocal melodies and an upwards inflection at the end of certain bars that feels very on-brand for her, and injects the pop-countrified atmosphere with some much-needed character. It’s unfortunate that such moments, though satisfying, are so infrequent that they’re barely able to get a leg-up amidst the bland musicianship. Single ‘Swallow My Tears’, an admittedly catchy mid-album cut, has an anthemic and pop-prominent vibe that works in its favour. Stefani’s tone complements the chipper rhythm with a well-implemented, tuneful chorus that conveys the scrambled desperation and emotional vulnerability of the lyrics well, but this is one of the few occasions where her style and the genre hallmarks merge in a way that feels organic. Not unique, but organic nonetheless.
Despite Stefani’s confounding statements to the contrary,
Bouquet displays an unwavering commitment to the pop-country bit, which serves to be its biggest downfall. Every aspect of the instrumentation, focus and even the singer’s emphatic storytelling are indicative of a record that hops on the bronco and digs in its heels till the bitter end- but oh boy, does this animal buck. Stefani’s approach to the lyrics certainly ticks off a great many of the countrified necessities but forgets to include anything of real substance, and any instances of creativity are momentary at best. Whether on a ballad or one of the sprightlier numbers, the shallow and unengaging takes offer little to inspire the listener and end up feeling trite in the most egregious way. The best and most evocative element of the vocal content are its numerous references to nature, with the
strawberry moon allusions during the chorus on ‘Late To Bloom’ a particularly memorable example. Tying the idea of love to the natural world and its cycles is certainly nothing new, but it’s a theme that runs throughout the record and at least feels consistent with the topics explored, affording it both enduring imagery and a compatible throughline. Otherwise, the content lacks a certain rough-and-tumble imagination that would have greatly benefitted the effect.
They say good things come to those who wait
and I can say they really do
It felt like centuries
waiting here for you
This borderline free-association excerpt from the aforementioned ‘Late To Bloom’ is a fair representation of the standard of writing found throughout the LP. Serviceable for the intention, but undeniably insipid, underwhelming and shallow. There is a certain idealism to its gentle flow that is far from repellent, to be sure, but this middle-of-the-road likeability never ascends to anything greater during the 10 track album.
Country is an exceedingly divisive genre in general, not only between those who appreciate it and those who do not, but also amongst both purists and casual appreciators. It’s a cowboy boot to the coin purse, then, that there’s very little content here that is likely to sway detractors or entice supporters from either camp. It’s undemanding and listenable, and Stefani’s very occasional channelling of her own distinctive style into the genre framework is far less off-putting than it could have been. Unfortunately, the project’s infrastructure feels incredibly weak; the country stylistics remain digestible in true genre fashion, but form an incredibly lacklustre offering as a whole. The lyricism is in desperate need of substance, trotting out well-worn tropes and exploring them reasonably enough, but offering precious little insight or intrigue that could have bolstered the intended effect, and considering this is something Stefani has shown herself very capable of in the past, it feels like a missed opportunity. The faults of
Bouquet lie not in the genre lane-switch, but in the artist’s seeming disdain for her own talent, which by-and-large goes unutilised here in favour of an exceptionally flavourless, dirt-road bland, pop country excursion. It feels like a jeu d’esprit more than a fully-realised record; the strike of an idea followed blindly through to its end point. Considering this is an album that started development 4 years ago, we’re just lucky it’s only a 30 minute listen.
