<\/p>\n
\u201cEgo Death at a Bachelorette Party” is the Hayley Williams album listeners have been waiting for \u2014 whether they realize it or not.<\/p>\n
Twenty years ago, the teenage emo band Paramore<\/a> wrote and recorded their first song, \u201cConspiracy,\u201d recalling the plucky post-hardcore riffs of New Jersey’s Thursday, fronted by a full-bodied vocalist in Williams. Her voice became their signature \u2014 huge and growing huger, religious belting atop chugging power chords. They signed a deal with the major label Atlantic Records; one they would remain in for nearly two decades. In that time, Paramore become one of the most influential rock bands of the last few decades, moving from Warped Tour-indebted<\/a> sounds to something more malleable. There were gospel choirs on 2013’s \u201cAin’t It Fun,\u201d new wave-y dance pop on 2017’s \u201cAfter Laughter,\u201d jagged post-punk on 2023’s \u201cThis Is Why.\u201d<\/a> Zig? They zagged.<\/p>\n Then, another detour. During the pandemic, Williams released two solo albums, 2020s \u201cPetals For Armor\u201d and 2021\u2019s \u201cFlowers for Vases.” Instead of her larger-than-life vocal athletics, Williams’ interiority was on full display in reserved, meditative indie rock. Radiohead<\/a> was a reference point. Consider those albums the foundation for her third project, \u201cEgo Death at a Bachelorette Party,\u201d her most unshackled solo release to date, self-released by her brilliantly titled Post Atlantic Records.<\/p>\n Independence has been a priority from the jump: \u201cEgo,\u201d as it was dubbed by the music press, was initially dropped as a collection of 17 not-yet-sequenced singles, Williams’ taking an unusual swing in subverting how new music was released. Fans began organizing the tracks into their own playlists, placing them in their own orders, which undoubtedly influenced Williams’ own. The only difference on the official release of \u201cEgo Death at a Bachelorette Party\u201d: It features a previously unreleased track, the gut-wrenching \u201cParachute” that references her first marriage.<\/a><\/p>\n In the final track list, the most biting moment arrives right at the top: on the trip-hop-pop \u201cIce in My OJ,” where Williams declares \u201cI got ice in my OJ, I\u2019m a cold heart (expletive)\/A lot of dumb (expletive) that I made rich.\u201d (If there was a \u201cConspiracy\u201d against her band all those years ago, it has been replaced with perspicacious clarity. Or, at least, the ability to articulate it directly and publicly. The song ends with a repetitive scream, \u201cI’m in a band! I’m in a band!\u201d)<\/p>\n Various ’90s alternative genres are a clear reference point: \u201cBrotherly Hate\u201d feels informed by Fiona Apple;<\/a> \u201cMirtazapine” is a thrilling college rock-channeling ode to an antidepressant, with a coda of Williams’ distorted screams soaring over discordant guitars.<\/p>\n Mental health is a central theme, too, appearing on the soft \u201cNegative Self Talk,” or the pop-rock of \u201cKill Me,\u201d a cutting examination of inherited trauma. \u201cCarrying my mother\u2019s mother\u2019s torment,\u201d she sings. \u201cI think I\u2019m where the bloodline ends.\u201d<\/p>\n