The album unfolds like a Pinterest mood board of regional dance subcultures.
The driving club track finds the singer embracing all of her imperfections.
The album doesn’t shy away from the glare, but rather steps into it.
The album feels like a branding exercise starring Travis Scott as the reluctant ringmaster.
As much as the album relies on attitude, it never feels one-note or settles for mere edginess.
The album serves more as a platform for empty self-aggrandizement than self-reflection.
In the end, the album is too reverent to ever bother being interesting.
The song is a proverbial lost gem with sharp lyrics and a killer bridge.
The band’s propensity for catchy, danceable garage-punk remains intact.
The singer seems torn between unruliness and introspection.
The album is a hesitant step in the right direction for the singer.
The album is, if nothing else, an inadvertent test of Boone’s capabilities as a performer.
Carlisle is at his best when he juxtaposes traditionalism with contemporary sensibilities.
These albums reflect a collective mood that’s far more nuanced than the almighty algorithm would have us believe.
The trio seems torn between embracing mainstream pop or following their bolder instincts.
The song and video are part of the artist’s first solo project since 2015.
Opening day brought together a unique mix of rising stars and powerhouse headliners.