Suki Waterhouse – Loveland
Suki Waterhouse’s third album radiates carefree, sultry charm, although emotions sometimes struggle to breathe due to tight, overly polished production
Loveland opens with bombastic fanfares and echoes of old Hollywood glam. The record's monochrome, retro aesthetic is captured through Back in Love’s cascading cymbals and earthy tones; with blazing brass and carefree exclamations, Waterhouse basks in a radiant, never-ending honeymoon phase. The laid-back tranquility of Waterhouse's style best fits rock-leaning numbers. Puppy Dog Eyes crashes into its chorus as she cautions to a past lover: ‘I am not your bible / Can't read me with a bottle of wine / Don't give me those puppy dog eyes.’ On Notting Hill, romantic memories melt with hearty keys and distorted guitars.
Ethereal closer Weirdo channels bittersweet aches of long distance, through breathy harmonies and sombre violins. This change of pace gives a vulnerable glimpse into both the hazy dreamscape of love, and misty melancholy brought by separation. Other tracks feel shallow in their nonchalance; Tiny Raisin dodges sentimentality through glossy talk-singing. Elsewhere, emotions often struggle to breathe due to tight, overly polished production. Almost confronts sailing ships and regrets but hides behind gentle chimes and ticking drums, while Morals plays it safe with soft strums and tentative melodies. Suki Waterhouse’s voice is versatile, but comfortably clings to pop-rock territory.
Listen to: Weirdo, Notting Hill, Puppy Dog Eyes