Review Summary: Carly matures by refining the ideas she's been expressing since the start
Tucked in the bottom right corner of The Loneliest Time's cover is a 'Parental Advisory' label that is meant to warn you of Carly's first and only f-bomb. However, when that expletive comes, it's less a departure from her earlier work than a refinement of the ideas that have garnered her such a cult following over the last decade. Carly's therapist telling her to 'soften up' distills, in just two words, why Jepsen's unique brand of escapism strikes such a chord with so many listeners. She's not asking you to escape reality and avoid pain, but to spend time inside a space where you can be vulnerable, and then move through it. If you pulled up the lyrics for Carly's entire career, you'd see how for over a decade she has always been talking about her hopes, desires, and fears of 'f**king it up'. Surrender My Heart serves as the thesis statement of Jepsen's catalogue thus far, in which she once again suggests that being open and honest about past failures, and learning from mistakes, is an act of bravery -- it just happens that she articulates these ideas through a well-crafted, 80's inspired, dance-pop banger.
When I first listened to the Loneliest Time, I was struck by the album's strange decision to front-load all of its sub-3 minute tracks. Considered alone, each of them appear to end all too soon--a critique that also reflects how unbelievably catchy each of these tracks are. By the time you reach Joshua Tree's second bass-driven chorus, it's already possible to sing along with those ear-wormy set of positive affirmations: I Need It, I Feel It, I See It, I Know It, I Own It, I Show It. Then comes an outro that you could easily have mistaken for the bridge of a longer song, and we move on. Alone, this sudden finish is underwhelming, but in the context of the album, these first 6 tracks can give you the feeling that you've been caught in the waves of an artist powered by her own momentum, allowing you to bear witness to a medley of one catchy idea after another. While E.Mo.Tion gave you breathing room to live in each song, The Loneliest Time begins as an excitingly varied buffet of dance/synthpop sounds. Talking to Yourself is a witty and self-assured banger about an ex who is hopefully kicking themselves with regret; Far Away is a laid back tune that oddly reminded me of Phil Collin's poppier hits (think, 'Follow You Follow Me'); Sideways bounces along like an even more joyful version of Dedicated's Window; and Beach House packs an entire narrative about the perils of online dating, along with a funny bridge and a fist-pumping chorus into 2.5 minutes.
Then, we take a left-turn to Bends, a track that I firmly believe is a career highlight. Lyrics aside, the song is gorgeous. Those distortions pre-chorus are genuinely trippy in a way that you'd have thought were outside CRJ's wheelhouse, if not for tracks like Warm Blood having foreshadowed these sounds. On Bends, Jepsen also flexes her songwriting muscles with gorgeous lyrics like "Moonlight, stars in the water glow; swim out, baptize me indigo." However, it is the earnestness with which she sings these lyrics that continues to sell songs that could so easily have fallen flat in the hands of another. The slight crack in her voice when she says she 'didn't feel so good' hits because you don't question her sincerity. Carly's ability to wear the clothes of both a pop star and a singer-songwriter has always been her greatest weapon. In my experience, when pop stars normally sing about falling in love, we identify with the emotions they convey, but don't necessarily get the feeling that the artist is sharing their own experiences with us. That Carly can still give the impression that the feelings expressed in her music are uniquely hers, is what enables her fans to develop absurdly strong connections that seem entirely odd to those that haven't bought in. On a related note, about a month ago, I was fortunate enough to see Jepsen live in Toronto where she performed Go Find Yourself Or Whatever to an audience that had yet to ever hear it. Watching her alone on stage, returning to the Tug of War sound that started it all, was a uniquely powerful moment and, upon finishing her performance, it was clear that the song was special to her too. And while the title may be cynically poking fun at the end of a relationship, the butt of the joke is not - and will never be - her own pain.
The rest of the album gives its tracks more room to breathe. Western Wind doubles down on the relaxing tone set by Bends, embracing ethereal tones and feathery light drums. The energy then picks back up with So Nice, a cute track that, despite growing on me, could've done without those grating "La la la's." Next, Bad Thing Twice marches forward with a stronger rock sound and some more clever lyricism: "Cross the rivers of my mind, you're my little rock skipper." Shooting Star decides to take a risk by pitching up one of Carly's best qualities, her voice, but fortunately has a powerful disco chorus that continues to live rent free in my head. Go Find Yourself or Whatever still feels beautifully personal and builds in a gorgeously understated way, and includes an exceptionally jangly guitar solo that I initially had mixed feelings on but works in the context. And finally, The Loneliest Time is perhaps Carly's first attempt at a grand album closer. Her duet with Rufus Wainwright, featuring a 6-piece string section and several fun breakdowns, assures the listener that Carly has a strong handle on much of the 80's pop landscape, from 2-minute joyrides to 5 minute disco-epics.
It's endearing the way calling a Carly Rae Jepsen song a 'bonus' track means absolutely nothing. Released on Spotify with the album itself, these 3 songs do not at all feel like extras. Anxious, which sounds like Jepsen shared a studio with a Tame Impala cover band for the day, places its lead synth over a driving bass line and carries its listener to bright choruses about some pretty relatable relationship anxieties. No Thinking Over the Weekend rides an unbelievably chill instrumental (reminiscent of 'I Don't Hate California After All') and once again displays Jepsen's sincere style of humour while she doubles down on themes of longing for love. Keep Away ends the project on a softer note, as Jepsen describes how her half-hearted attempts to keep someone away continue to crumble under her own desires.
Leading up to The Loneliest Time's release, I was sure that this project would be her most cohesive, but to my surprise it turned out to be the opposite. Yet, the more I listen, the more I see how Jepsen's eschewed a clear narrative for a series of individual stories that each serve as a slightly different manifestation of what we do when we're lonely. We'll try dating apps (Beach House), make poor decisions (Bad Thing Twice), put on an air of confidence (Joshua Tree, Sideways), think about how our ex must miss us (Talking To Yourself), and then maybe fail to keep that ex away and run right back to them (Keep Away, The Loneliest Time).
In the end, I'm happy to say that I think The Loneliest Time is superb. Just remember that this review was written from the subjective view of someone who has fully bought into the Jepsen brand. My true feelings about this album may change overtime - in fact, I'm sure they will. But for now, The Loneliest Time is going to get an unhealthy amount of playtime, and there's nothing anyone can say or do to change that.
