1 week ago
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On his fourth album – Kiss All The Time. Disco, Occasionally. – we can barely perceive any morsel of emotion from his deadpanned singing. The “Pop!” on “Pop” feels frail and devoid of excitement. The exclamation in “Ready, Steady, Go!” is left in despair as he mouths the word as if it’s forced upon him. Even the “We belong together!” on “Aperture” is less empowering than listening to a junior-high sideline cheerleading. There’s nothing here that suggests progress from the soaring performances of “Sign of the Times” or, hell, the backing scream in the chorus of “Lights Up”. For a record tailored in big, electrifying feelings, he sure does sing like someone who hasn’t experienced them at all.
Could it be that this time Styles wants to prioritise the music? Possibly maybe. Harpoon and Tyler Johnson remain as his trusted producers, infusing electronic bolts with sweet pop melodies. Throughout KISSCO... (as how fans abbreviate the title), lightning-struck synths and drums take lead in grabbing the listeners’ attention. “American Girls” exerts a sophisti-electropop energy à la the 1975’s most recent album. “Carla’s Song” is dripped in winky basslines despite its lacklustre progression. As with the primary inspiration LCD Soundsystem, this is the most sonically mature and muscular output of his career, albeit impeded by a persistent reluctance to diverse progressions and animated expressions.
Unlike Harry’s House where Styles deftly navigates through the low and high tides of his colourful soundscapes, KISSCO... feels monotonous for its tedious consistency and predictability. Songs unfold like uninspired pastiche rather than his own interpreted twists. “The Waiting Game” stays one-note all the way. “Dance No More” and “Are You Listening Yet?” are so general they can be cloned by basically anyone. Styles’ songwriting has seemingly reached a point of stasis here; his naturally blunt and simplistic lyricism takes less pride in specificity than ever before. Perhaps their mundanity represents the emotional drainage of existential crisis, as well as how frivolous the attempts to dampen it are.
Yet KISSCO... gratifies like a TikTok reel despite its runtime: instantaneous and very much short-lived. You may sympathise with Styles on tracks like “Season 2 Weight Loss” and “Paint by Numbers”, in which his vulnerable yearning for affection and validation is put under the spotlight. Then, as the number of listens abound, there’s an ultimately off-putting weight of emptiness presented via the carefully bare and subdued instrumentation. It’s like standing safely on the middle ground, refusing to swing in either extreme opposite end. The result is a collection of futile, brooding songs that tries to encapsulate bigger-than-life emotions but ends up being too afraid to truly delve into them. He could just need a little love from someone, anyone, to get that refined taste back.
English (US) · 