ALBUM REVIEWS
‘Messy’ has the intoxicating promise of a summer’s evening. Olivia Dean’s debut album lives in a state of suspended animation, enthusiastic about what lies ahead while fully living in and absorbing the moment: she sings of romantic and familial relationships with a gentle touch, as though she’s contemplating her thoughts while standing beneath a beam of sunlight.
The matter of hope is central to ‘Messy’, a light, nimble and fresh-faced collection of sprawling soul-pop tunes that illustrate the importance of perseverance amid personal upheaval. In 2021, Dean, a 24-year-old songwriter from north London, finally caught her break with her ‘Growth’ EP. The five-track effort was a runaway success; after racking up streaming numbers in the millions, the BRIT School graduate would go on to perform at Glastonbury, tour with Loyle Carner and collaborate with soul superstar Leon Bridges.
What makes Dean markedly different from her peers, however, is that she has the confidence to occasionally dissect subjects that others swerve, all while appealing to a mainstream audience. Album standout ‘Carmen’ simultaneously works as a love letter to her Guyana-born grandmother, as well as shining a light on the hardship that was caused to those affected by the Windrush scandal. She continues to prove that there’s more to her writing than optimism; ‘Messy’ gives her space to examine her own frustrations: “Why can’t you be better for me?”, she pleads with an ex on ‘No Man’.
The fullness of Dean’s musical vision vibrates in these gorgeously crafted moments, making the stumbles feel like mere blips: notably, ‘Everybody’s Crazy’ relies too heavily on clichés surrounding how confusing it is to be alive. Dean may have not shed all of her growing pains, but ‘Messy’ ultimately does everything a debut should, uniting multiple stories with a clear, radiant voice.
ALBUM REVIEWS
Grandeur sits at the heart of ‘This Music May Contain Hope’, RAYE’s second album, and the result feels nothing short of breathtaking. On this record, the singer born Rachel Keen explores a wide spectrum of sounds across its 73 minute length, moving from emotional ballads to lively funk moments and the jazz pop style she has become closely associated with. It can feel overwhelming at first, yet the magic that comes from RAYE fully committing to her vision makes the experience rewarding from start to finish.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’, a conceptual project about pushing through insecurity and heartbreak, unfolds like a lavish stage production. RAYE takes on the dual role of main character and guiding voice throughout the story. “Allow me to set the scene. Our story begins at 2:27am on a rainy night in Paris. Cue the thunder,” she says during the opening track ‘Girl Under The Grey Cloud’, which arrives with sweeping orchestral strings. Spoken passages appear across the album, helping shape the narrative and giving the project a sense of direction, almost like hearing the official recording of a Broadway show.
With this framework in place, the South London artist allows herself to fully explore the album’s diverse musical palette, and most of the time it works in her favor. Sometimes she fully embraces the theatrical side of the concept, especially during the closing section of the smooth R&B track ‘The WhatsApp Shakespeare’. Other moments are delivered more straightforwardly, such as the emotional slow building ballad ‘I Know You’re Hurting’. She also revisits her earlier dance influences with the impressive house track ‘Life Boat’.
Across the entire album, two things stand out clearly. RAYE’s flexible vocals sound better than ever, and her songwriting feels sharper than it has before. Take the playful highlight ‘I Hate The Way I Look Today’, a swing jazz inspired track reminiscent of Ella Fitzgerald, where she admits “I’m okay to be lonely / If I’m lonely and skinny / I have such silly self-loathing thoughts, it seems”. Then there is the emotional storytelling in ‘Nightingale Lane’: “It was right there, early June / Next to Old Park Avenue / Standing in the rain, I watched him walk away”.
Despite all the vulnerability and emotional struggles explored throughout the record, RAYE ultimately reaches a place of optimism, staying true to the album’s title. She gathers her close friends on ‘Click Clack Symphony’ with support from Hans Zimmer, finds closure with guidance from Al Green on the smooth seventies soul inspired ‘Goodbye Henry’, and reaches toward something greater alongside her sisters Amma and Absolutely on the uplifting ‘Joy’ as she searches to be “free of all the pain and every fear”. After the stormy opening imagery of that “rainy night” and “thunder”, RAYE eventually realizes that “the sun exists behind the clouds”, as she shares on ‘Happier Times Ahead’.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’ shows RAYE performing at her absolute peak. The album feels huge in scale and emotionally powerful, yet it remains rooted in honest experiences and real feelings. Yes, it asks a lot from the listener, but that is also what makes it so special. Every dramatic moment and musical shift feels like RAYE claiming her independence and finally creating music entirely on her own terms.
