In her sophomore record, Clairo's reserved musings of domesticity pushes her songwriting into newer heights, but her limited vocal presence and the ornate yet uniformed arrangements doesn't go all the way there.
At this age of internet artists, it was very interesting to hear the discourse of the ‘Industry Plant’, artists that got their appeal in the mainstream through label management and stamping the ‘DIY’ aesthetic that might sound organic but is really a calculated move by the labels that handle them. Sometimes that discussion gets very ugly, but sometimes it gets pretty stupid which leads to some artists get undeserved hate because of that title plastered on to them.
Clairo is one of those who are in the latter. Yes, you can say that she got a head start due to her connections that have links to labels and companies, but even then she was aware of her privilege and she was the one creating lo-fi music without any label management before ‘Pretty Girl’ blew up like a landmine in 2017 when Bedroom Pop is taking a heel turn in the music landscape. That success led her to get her label deal on Fader and released her debut album ‘Immunity’ out in 2019. It’s not exactly an impressive debut, Rostam’s production failed to flatter the intimacy that comes from Clairo’s vocals and themes of her anxious experience on relationships, her sexuality, and her illness that makes her feel small. There are tracks that do hit that intimacy, but the production and composition of most songs on that debut kept the overall experience hit less than more.
Going through her sophomore record, that intimacy gets even more apparent as Clairo goes Singer-Songwriter mode. Collaborating with Jack Antonoff to bring in his usual production chops and even got to have Lorde provide backup vocals on two songs in the album including her lead single ‘Blouse’, brimmed with nothing else but her solemn vocal timbre accompanied by nothing more but guitar strums and strings that pass through the theme of being sexualized and objectified by a male colleague is the maturity that Clairo shows as a songwriter and as a musician. And that sudden maturity in her songwriting, as well as the embrace of ornate instrumentation by Jack Antonoff, does run all throughout this album. From the playful and delicate touches of ‘Amoeba’ that is very reminiscent of Clairo’s earlier bedroom projects, the straight-up country tune of ‘Reaper’, The reserved yet beautiful piano touches of ‘Little Changes’, and the instrumental excursion of ‘Joanie’.
Clairo’s songwriting has measurably matured from her past projects, musing about domesticity that she felt that she needed that branches out from the relationship songs where she puts up the role of the caretaker as well as her dog Joanie that she takes care of like a child of hers amidst sensitive themes such as her ongoing deal with depression and anxiety as well as the industry that might control her agency and objectify her for her femininity. But even with that sensitivity, Clairo’s embrace with her newfound discovery of domesticity keeps her strong, keeps her moving forward. And again, it’s a stark maturity from her that makes her writing more sharper and potent, especially with lines like “If touch could make them hear, then touch me now”, and “I'll spare you pain, I can feel my shame creep through the floor” really shows Clairo’s growth as a songwriter.
But that being said, the record does fall short due to two reasons. The first is that as much as Clairo’s willowy voice and the choice to bury her vocals a tad bit under the instrumentation is intentionally done to emphasize the domesticity that’s the focus of her songwriting, she doesn’t consistently have that magnetic aura that Joni Mitchell or even the quieter singer-songwriters are able to show in their records. And second, the instrumentation can start to feel uniformed especially in the back half of the record. Ornate and tasteful for sure, but they can meld together that it could’ve at least afforded to be a bit faster or give individual songs a sense of space or instrumental highlight just to make them feel more distinct from each other.
To wrap this up, Sling is definitely a step up from Clairo’s debut album. The mature and sharper writing as well as the subtle yet toughened reserve of Clairo’s vocals paired with the polished folk compositions do work wonders. But there are still enough flubs in Clairo’s limited presence and uniformed arrangement that pull it back from being a great project. Still, the upward trajectory in Clairo’s growth as a songwriter and as a musician is incredibly appreciated, not bad at all.
Favorite Tracks: Bambi, Blouse, Amoeba, Joanie, Little Changes, Management
Least Favorite Track: Zinnias