Review Summary: Survival in the rhythm of synth-pop
It feels as though on her new record,
Girlfriend, Grace Ives is taking her sound to a completely different level: instead of the familiar lo-fi roughness, something much sharper, more radiant, and more ambitious now rules the day. At the same time, Grace avoids sliding into suffocating autobiographical confessions – she conveys all her vulnerability through the musical fabric itself, delivering just enough personal details to make us feel the constant buzzing of thoughts in our heads as we search for answers to the questions that concern us.
This time, Ives stepped out of her comfort zone on all fronts. After a long period of trying to build a healthy relationship with her addictions, Ives arrived at an inevitable conclusion: total collapse, debt, hospitals, and ruined relationships. As a result, for the first time in her life, she decided to drop everything, left her longtime partner, and moved to California alone. This change of scenery literally saved her, infusing the album with incredible air and freedom. Therefore, the tracks have turned into something resembling an open conversation: substance abuse, female sexuality, and the ability not to take oneself too seriously are discussed openly here, but with an engaging self-irony.
Heavyweights Ariel Rechtshaid and John DeBold are responsible for the technical side this time around, and their influence is felt immediately: the album sounds powerful and clean. They did a fantastic job with the rhythm, so that even the most whimsical harmonies sound very danceable while still leaving space for Grace's vocals. The roots may have faded slightly, but the signature synthesizer layering remains intact – the tracks literally burst with dazzling emotions.
Take the intro
Now I’m – it starts with a hum and soft xylophone strokes, but that is merely a feint before the true cascade of arpeggios and percussion in
Avalanche, which convincingly conveys the feeling of a tumultuous romance ending like a natural disaster. The theme of battling addiction sounds sharpest in
Drink Up – a nighttime trip along the edge of a precipice over a broken beat, where Ives alternates between whispering and breaking into a shout, tossing between harsh self-flagellation and a desperate attempt to pull herself together.
Fire 2 catches this wave – it is a true turning point with piercing vocals and techno rhythms, resembling a cry from the soul in an attempt to vent everything that has built up immediately before it is too late. Meanwhile,
My Mans stands apart: it is a cool electronic release born out of lonely night drives, where the artist is not afraid to be sentimental. For her, breakups are not just casual arguments, but part of an eternal vicious circle with the motto
“Every single guy I meet completes me”. Right beside it is
Dance with Me, balancing on a razor’s edge between light flirting and complete emotional burnout beneath a pulsating beat.
Many musicians are terribly afraid that sobriety will kill their spark, but Ives clearly proves the opposite: on
Girlfriend, she sounds braver than ever.
Neither You Nor I compares relationships to a sharp knife,
What If acts as an anthem to a new life and an honest confession of her mistakes right here and right now, and
Garden uses tremolo to convey a moment of pure rebirth. The result is a huge step forward in terms of personal expression, yet without losing that same trusting intimacy. And the closing statement is made by the triumphant track
Stupid Bitches, where against a backdrop of buzzing electronics, Grace shouts out like an incantation:
“It doesn’t hurt me anymore”.
Girlfriend feels like pure hope – the perfect soundtrack for a day when the clouds suddenly part and you are flooded with blinding sunlight. It is a true celebration of a clear head after a heavy storm, reminding us that healing is not living without scars, but rather that exhilarating lightness with which you want to drink this day down to the last drop.
