You can feel the magic: a "Dear Happy" review
Gabrielle Aplin was a music discovery I made at thirteen, an artist that played on Pandora's Lissie Radio while I furiously typed out what I thought was my YA masterpiece. There was a mystical quality to her realistic songwriting that intrigued me, matched by lush production and melodies. The ache behind her lyrics painted a picture of a young woman wise beyond her years, and when 2013's English Rain transitioned into the alt folk pop masterpiece of 2015's Light Up the Dark, I became even more intrigued (seriously, Aplin's second record is amazing, and I recommend you go and listen to it right now).
After leaving her label and getting dropped by her publisher, Aplin decided to embrace the power of pop on 2016's Miss You EP. The title track is lush, keyboard strokes providing power to a story that may seem romantic on the onset: "Oh, God, I miss you, too / It's all I ever do / I'm coming back to you / And I won't let go...again," Sounds like she's reuniting with a lover or friend, right? Aplin, however, disagrees. "[The song] is about rediscovering your former self and precious dreams...that may have got[ten] lost," she told NYLON, and the opposing verses, the nostalgic sound, and the message that love can be important, especially with yourself, reflects that beautifully. When this record was announced back in the fall, I was surprised by the inclusion of this track, but since this marked the beginning of pop Aplin, it does make sense (but then why not include tracks from the 2016 and 2017 EPs? And then there's the remix of "Miss You" she released with Nina Nesbitt that sounds fresher and is honestly a bop).
Minus the puzzlement of that, Dear Happy was dropping in the dead of January, which wasn't a great sign. However, having followed the releases Aplin has made to build this record for the past year, I was intrigued to see where pop would take her. While I was impressed with the singles, the album as a whole lacks something for me. Although Dear Happy is a nice collection of pop bops, I favor the Aplin of 2015, the one who took risks with her sound and wasn't afraid to be different. This record does have moments where Aplin gives her all vocally and lyrically, but the production doesn't reach the same heights as it once did, instead choosing to fit into modern trends. Regardless, this was a nice start to the year in terms of music, and although this album feels like a collection of songs instead of a cohesive collection, there are standout tracks that deserve a listen.
Dear Happy starts with "Until the Sun Comes Up," a track that awakens from a heavy and restless routine to a celebration that throws it all away. It's a bouncy start to the record, juxtaposing vibrant production with emotional lyrics, a staple of Aplin's work. "Invisible" and "One of Those Days" continue the trend, the former exploding at the chorus once the narrator realizes their invisibility, someone close to them only "see[ing]...the ceiling and the floor" when they're together. The latter is subtler, a piano ballad that builds into a lament. Today, Aplin notes, "grace seems far away," and she feels as though she's taken life for granted. I've definitely been there, and I know whenever I'm having "one of those days," I'll be blasting this track. On a happier note, there's "Kintsugi," named after the Japanese art of repairing cracked pottery with a mixture that contains gold. Although our narrator is going through the motions and is afraid to be honest about what they need ("Honesty is so out of place / And everyone's afraid to be naked," Aplin sings), they've embraced the mess of their life. "Maybe that's just what [they] need." It's a quirky pop song, peppered with vocal fragments, glittering synth patterns, and a nice message: no matter what we go through in life, "all [our] scars are golden" and make us who we are.
The funky "Strange" follows someone falling in love, befuddled but eager to "go wherever Heaven takes [them] / Even through the flames." Then "My Mistake" flips the script, another piano ballad radiating emotion from every pore. A brutally honest track where Aplin confronts her self-deprecation regarding her ADHD, the lyrics punch into soft tissue, laying bare every regretful moment. "I don't dare to dream," she muses, "I've got a dark imagination / These hours waste away / A debt I'll never pay." However, she knows that "when [she] falters / ...At least it was [her] mistake." Who cares what people say about her in the process? She can find "magic in [the] misery." Rather than wallow, Aplin chooses to triumph, and when the song crescendos into its final chorus, she has won. It's a powerful track, easily one of the best on the record.
The next two tracks are also great hits. "Like You Say You Do" confronts the trap of the way lives can look on social media, happy faces with empty words. Wrapped up in the guise of a love song, Aplin finds herself frustrated with the empty three words she's receiving from a partner. "If you need me / Like you need to breathe, then / Love me like you say you do," she sings, the chorus jauntily picking up behind her. "...You got the whole world believing / In something / That I don't even know is true." There's a lack of intimacy that words can't convey on their own; Aplin wants movement, something tangible that goes beyond words we take for granted every day. "Losing Me," Aplin's collaboration with JP Cooper, presents the sentiment from the get-go, a desire for the assurance that everything will be okay from an ex or a dear friend. Cooper's falsetto is an excellent match for Aplin's soprano, and the trap-infused production has a lot of groove behind it over the chorus: "Take a breath, love / Fill your lungs up / Rest your head, there's / No sense in losing sleep / You can break down / Let your worst out / Lose your temper / But you're not losing me." That extra push of courage to confide in those we love whenever we're going through it is a powerful notion, especially in this busy age. Kudos to Aplin and crew for including some heavier subject material on an album dealing with finding happiness once again.
"So Far so Good" rollicks as the starting point for a series of love songs, the narrator there looking back at the start of an unlikely relationship in a fun retrospective. "Nothing Really Matters" follows, bubbly instrumentation highlighting nervousness at the start of something more. "I didn't mean it when I said that it was too much / Got myself into a mess like a head rush / I should've known, I nearly let go / And you caught me by surprise," Aplin confesses at the beginning. As the track continues, those jitters blossom into determination, the realization that the narrator "can't fight [this]" any longer, "'cause they always give in...." The propulsive energy dissolves into a mid-tempo groove on "Magic," a spellbound moment between two people that, despite its lack of physical intimacy, doesn't need it because emotional intimacy matters so much more. "I know that you love me / Don't need anyone to tell me / I can see it written on your face / ...It's all the words you never say / The way I catch you watching me." Those little gestures are enough for these two, so let them be.
The final three tracks show a path toward self-acceptance: the cutting ties of "Love Back," the reconciliation of a past self on "Miss You," and the urge to hold onto happiness on the title track now that it's been achieved. But as the final song fades out, I feel that despite the cohesive production on the record, the material itself doesn't feel cohesive or distinct. Something is missing, and I can't quite place it. Whatever it is, it leaves me thinking that individual tracks on this album are good, but the album as a whole leaves something to be desired.
Regardless, the third album from Gabrielle Aplin is a fun pop record worthy of a listen. The production is fun, Aplin has always been an evocative singer and writer, and the desire to push for self-acceptance and self-realization is great. I just wish I liked the whole project more instead of just the individual tracks and that there were more risks taken here.