Sophomore studio albums—especially by pop artists who broke through on their debut—often fall into the “here’s more of what you liked” variety. But sometimes an artist cashes in the check of their success to make their “everything I ever wanted to do” album.
That’s definitely the path Raye is taking on This Music May Contain Hope, her studio follow-up to 2023’s internationally acclaimed My 21st Century Blues. She again fuses pop, R&B, soul, and jazz, but this is Raye’s big swing: 17 songs, presented in four acts, with guest stars ranging from legends to family members, and multiple orchestras. This album not only contains hope; it features every emotional and musical idea it can muster.
More from Spin:
(Credit: Aliyah Otchere)
It’s thrilling to hear Raye boldly try new things on each song. The fun, declarative spirit found on the album’s first single “Where Is My Husband!” is present throughout, but its big, brassy throwback pop-soul is practically conventional compared to the rest. “I Hate The Way I Look Today” uses 1940s boogie woogie to joyfully express modern anxieties. “Joy” is a celebratory spiritual meets a dance floor banger featuring her real-life sisters, while “Goodbye Henry” is classic Al Green-style ’70s soul actually featuring Al Green. “Click Clack Symphony” is a percussive anthem of female solidarity that feels ready to score a Hollywood dance number (in part because she’s collaborating with famed film composer Hans Zimmer). All this genre-hopping is held together effortlessly by Raye’s voice, as she brings whatever’s needed—Modern R&B! Classic opera! Theatrical patter!—with complete confidence.
Every song goes for everything, making the album exciting, expansive,and also… unwieldy. From its title to the table-setting opening track “Intro: Girl Under the Grey Cloud,” it seems like Raye wants this album to be taken as whole. But in this context, it stumbles for me. This isn’t a narratively clear concept album like Lily Allen’s recent West End Girl or a consistent character study like Mitski’s latest. It’s a sprawling collection of individual songs that are only tenuously connected by a shared message of not giving in to life’s darkness.
If I’m supposed to take this in as one 73-minute experience—as I did on my first listen—the music’s fearless adventurousness becomes overwhelming, almost exhausting. Each song seems to have an extra moment—a 4th-wall breaking intro, a spoken word outro, a second bridge—that feels like a hat on a hat, or even a hat on top of two hats. Like when the previously mentioned “Click Clack Symphony” continues past its propulsive first two-thirds into what feels like a movie’s late second act meditative montage. Or how “I Know You’re Hurting” gradually builds its musical and vocal layers for a touching, empathetic plea across four minutes… then adds even more bombast for two more minutes.
And yet, writing “it has too much” makes me feel like I’m the emperor in Amadeus saying the work has simply too many notes. While I might prefer a more refined and edited version of this album, what’s here is truly, uniquely Raye. Her strength as an artist is maximalism. Does it get messy? Sure, but she also finds connection points between different styles and eras, like a living time machine, while always keeping it grounded in earnest emotion. You can feel that her exploration and experimentation comes from her heart, not her brain.
So my recommendation is what I did on my second listen: Hear the album in batches of two to three songs. Because as individual songs, there’s so much to enjoy. “Winter Woman” and “Nightingale Lane” are equally moving yet distinctly different takes on heartbreak. “Skin & Bones” is a body-moving mockery of “U up?” texts. “Life Boat” is the positive rave-up I’ll reach for the next time I’m feeling down.
Maybe the ambitious sprawl is ultimately the hope Raye’s latest is bringing to our times. When many pop songs cut straight to the chorus and seem designed to merely continue their artist’s momentum, it’s refreshing to see an artist strive for more and more and more.
To see our running list of the top 100 greatest rock stars of all time, click here.
‘ The preceding article may include information circulated by third parties ’
‘ Some details of this article were extracted from the following source www.yahoo.com ’
