The frequent spoken-word interludes would feel less performative at a live show, but often take you out of the moment on the record. It seems RAYE is unwilling to leave anything on the cutting room floor, even if dialing back the razzle-dazzle could forge closer connection to the music. But the peaks often justify the adventure.
She packs it full of old-school show-tune razzle-dazzle, big-band swing frills, retro Sixties R&B, the occasional club beat, and an endless supply of glamorously tragic scenarios. .... Self-indulgence is the whole point of This Music May Contain Hope, and the album wouldn’t work at all without her flamboyant grandiosity.
It’s huge, expansive, bonkers and brilliant. It’s RAYE at her very core, and it’s fantastic.
Her appetite for the heart-on-sleeve razzle dazzle of it all is glorious. This Music May Contain Hope is a pure audio spectacle that will have you screaming for an encore.
Like it or not – I very much do – this is not an artist playing it safe. As on the last album, RAYE is unequivocally at her best when she leans contemporary, in production and subject matter.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’ is RAYE firing on all cylinders – and then some. It’s showstopping musical maximalism at its grandest, while still being grounded in relatable experiences and unbridled emotions.
It is wildly ambitious, in a pop era in which a lot of artists’ ambitions extend no further than maintaining their career. But the end result feels less like a showstopping grand artistic statement than a wild, fascinating, occasionally messy miscellany of ideas.
Problems arise with I know You’re Hurting and Life Boat, a combined 10 minutes the album could arguably do without. The same could be said for the five minutes of thank you credits in Fin. Where the hell is my editor? might have been a more apt battle cry. Still, given its emotional heft and likely cultural impact, it’s an album that could turn Raye into Britain’s Beyoncé. It’s a towering achievement.
This Music May Contain Hope will easily be a certain contender for many people’s end of the year lists. This is an album of rare scale and energy, and one that’s been designed to come back to time and time again.
Raye is refreshingly unconcerned with sounding corny. On This Music May Contain Hope, maximalism proves to be an effective cure for the loneliness epidemic.
The attention to detail is pretty confounding, from the string and brass arrangements to her imagery-laden lyrics; as RAYE balances vintage styles with modern-leaning melodies and production, she strikes a sound that is unmistakably hers and totally infectious.
The frequent spoken-word interludes would feel less performative at a live show, but often take you out of the moment on the record. It seems RAYE is unwilling to leave anything on the cutting room floor, even if dialing back the razzle-dazzle could forge closer connection to the music. But the peaks often justify the adventure.
She packs it full of old-school show-tune razzle-dazzle, big-band swing frills, retro Sixties R&B, the occasional club beat, and an endless supply of glamorously tragic scenarios. .... Self-indulgence is the whole point of This Music May Contain Hope, and the album wouldn’t work at all without her flamboyant grandiosity.
It’s huge, expansive, bonkers and brilliant. It’s RAYE at her very core, and it’s fantastic.
Her appetite for the heart-on-sleeve razzle dazzle of it all is glorious. This Music May Contain Hope is a pure audio spectacle that will have you screaming for an encore.
Like it or not – I very much do – this is not an artist playing it safe. As on the last album, RAYE is unequivocally at her best when she leans contemporary, in production and subject matter.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’ is RAYE firing on all cylinders – and then some. It’s showstopping musical maximalism at its grandest, while still being grounded in relatable experiences and unbridled emotions.
It is wildly ambitious, in a pop era in which a lot of artists’ ambitions extend no further than maintaining their career. But the end result feels less like a showstopping grand artistic statement than a wild, fascinating, occasionally messy miscellany of ideas.
Problems arise with I know You’re Hurting and Life Boat, a combined 10 minutes the album could arguably do without. The same could be said for the five minutes of thank you credits in Fin. Where the hell is my editor? might have been a more apt battle cry. Still, given its emotional heft and likely cultural impact, it’s an album that could turn Raye into Britain’s Beyoncé. It’s a towering achievement.
This Music May Contain Hope will easily be a certain contender for many people’s end of the year lists. This is an album of rare scale and energy, and one that’s been designed to come back to time and time again.
Raye is refreshingly unconcerned with sounding corny. On This Music May Contain Hope, maximalism proves to be an effective cure for the loneliness epidemic.
The attention to detail is pretty confounding, from the string and brass arrangements to her imagery-laden lyrics; as RAYE balances vintage styles with modern-leaning melodies and production, she strikes a sound that is unmistakably hers and totally infectious.
真诚成这样流畅悦耳成这样戏剧张力足成这样，值得格莱美年专
真诚成这样流畅悦耳成这样戏剧张力足成这样，值得格莱美年专