Review Summary: We can uh-uh in it.
YouTube critic Todd in the Shadows once made the very astute observation that pop stars have a lot in common with superheroes and wrestlers. To be reductive, the iconography of these figures all require a certain elegance of “character design” that aim to be easily readable and wholly unique. The last few years have had an embarrassment of riches in this department as pop music has experienced a much needed shot in the arm. For a few examples, you’ve got Chappell Roan playing around with a lot of drag personas (including a literal wrestler), Sabrina Carpenter performing as comedically sexy baby, Billie Eilish making Adam Sandler fashion cool again, and Charli casting a necromancy spell on indie-sleaze. The point is, there’s no shortage of fandoms to dive head-first into, complete with lore and stans conducting quarterly reports to break down an artist’s success (or lack thereof) with the raw numbers.
Tate McRae doesn’t really inspire that same sort of fervor -at least, not yet.
So Close To What is a hilariously apropos title that delivers a fairly standard tracklist and runtime as it tries to wrestle with what exactly makes a Tate song a Tate song. Its fifteen offerings don’t really try to push the envelope in any specific direction, focusing instead on throwing the darts at syrupy-sweet choruses with production that could be mistakenly plucked from the 00’s without ever really sounding overly-so. This is well-worn territory, and if you covered her name and told me it was anyone else, I would probably believe you.
This sounds like a drawback, but it’s actually quite refreshing to have a pop album just be a pop album without needing an entire orientation to “properly” engage with it. Sure, there are a few stray attempts at worldbuilding like on album highlight “Revolving Door” (“I still think ‘bout that night out in Boston”) but the proceedings are largely kept blissfully anonymous in service of a rather exhilarating dance-banger that doesn’t skimp on atmosphere*. If it weren’t for a quick scan of wikipedia, I wouldn’t have even known that one of the album’s two features is from boyfriend The Kid LAROI (who, at least on the mic, I do
not want him to stay), but the song is cute enough even with his distracting dip in quality. “Sports car” is recession pop kayfabe at its finest, having such a silly and sexy chorus that brazenly suggests we can “uh uh” in it, and even
more brazenly assumes “I think you know what this” -I think I do! It’s beyond stupid in the best way, only to further up the ante with a truly sublime meta-callout (“got butterflies/so good it hurts/ thinkin’ ‘bout what we did before this verse”) -and those squiggly synths and panning guitars really know how to dress up a fairly boilerplate beat. The same could be said about “2 hands,” which really shows off how glitzy the production throughout is.The percussion is crisp, to the point where it could be mistaken for a live performance, and the rest of the song’s sequencing really squeezes blood from a stone from a relatively brief runtime.
*The music video’s choreography is also as hilarious as it is impressive. I am utterly smitten by whatever the hell that whipped-arm move is.
It’s a shame, then, that these glimpses of pop perfection are just that: glimpses. Tate is free from the burden of expectations but still spends the bulk of
So Close To What wallowing in merely-decent stabs that sound like throwaways from artists with more crystallized brands rather than sound truly uninhibited. None of the songs on offer are really that bad, but many veer dangerously close into indistinguishable muzak. “It’s ok I’m ok” is on the verge of sounding as scorned as its lyrics suggest, but it ultimately feels like it needs someone like Doja Cat to take full advantage of the punchy booms that punctuate an otherwise light-feeling track. “Greenlight” feels criminally close to being a stunning pop-rock ballad, but ultimately lacks enough heft to get over hump -but, dam
n that vocal melody is sticky and the instrumental is quite pleasant. “Like I do” feels like a very early sketch off of Ariana Grande’s
thank u next that seems okay as a proof-of-concept for this sort of airy RnB, but might serve Tate well to use as a cautionary tale as it does not play well to the strengths (or lack thereof) of her vocals. Despite the assist from Flo Milli, “bloodonmyhands” remains imperceptible among the legions of ghost tracks that Spotify serves.
While the ceiling is low and the majority of
So Close To What is annoyingly undercooked, there is still a lot of promise to be found. Tate and her team clearly have an ear for sticky melodies and the lack of necessary lore is appreciated, but there still is a very pervasive sense of figuring things out here. Frustratingly, the answers are still a bit unclear as to which direction would serve Tate best. Still, even though I don’t really know what makes a Tate McRae song a Tate McRae song, I am intrigued to discover that answer eventually -
So Close to What, indeed.
