LIFE & CULTURE: REVIEWS
Courtesy of Sony Music Entertainment
Miley Cyrus follows her heart into rock ‘n roll
Courtesy of Dead Oceans
Bridgers is faultless in soul-bearing second album
By Eva Salzman
By Arleigh Rodgers
Made for rock, Miley Cyrus kicks her way back into the music scene with her latest project, “Plastic Hearts.” Self-assured and clever in this glam-rock album, Cyrus exhibits her evolution since not only Hannah Montana but the days of swinging on a wrecking ball. Cyrus maintained her popularity throughout back-to-back eras for completely different reasons, but “Plastic Hearts” seems to bring it all full circle. Cyrus may certainly have a long history of shocking her audience, but “Plastic Hearts” instead feels like a shock back to life. Cyrus combines electric guitars, edgy bass lines and iconic gravel-voiced hooks to curate her new image. In “WTF Do I Know,” the album’s opening track, Cyrus is electric and fed up. She growls out lyrics that sound like the thoughts of a tired party girl seeking revenge. “WTF Do I Know” perfectly sets the tone for the album, complete with rock hero references and full-bodied emotion. “Plastic Hearts” also pays homage to Cyrus’ country roots. In the song “Never Be Me,” Cyrus shows that she’s finally developed the style of strong storytelling by illustrating her heart-first mentality when it comes to love. She lyrically references the great Johnny Cash’s “I Walk the Line” and “Ring of Fire” in a tear-jerking realization of who she is. One of the best elements of “Plastic Hearts” is its tributes to the greats, though this falters in the album’s features. The only exception to this is found in “Edge of Midnight,” a remix of Cyrus’ “Midnight Sky” and Stevie Nicks’ iconic song “Edge of Seventeen.” “Edge of Midnight” features Nicks herself, creating the perfect duo of raspy-voiced rock stars. While Cyrus has seemingly transformed into the widest breadth of identities, this one feels like a good fit. From Disney Channel sweetheart to the devil-may-care drug user to beachy hippie to leather-wearing rock star, Cyrus offers a sentimental symbol of her growth. “Plastic Hearts” reminds listeners to recall their roots and acknowledge that it’s OK to stray from them so long as you find your way back home.
In “Punisher,” Phoebe Bridgers knows exactly who she’s talking to: everyone. As she proved in “Stranger in the Alps,” her debut album from 2017, Bridgers is more than just one idea, feeling or tone. What sets her apart in “Punisher” is her quiet confidence and nonchalance when admitting sharp, intense and tender feelings, accompanied by battering drums or a low electric guitar. After the short and distorted prelude, “DVD Menu,” Bridgers launches her dark and stripped brigade with “Garden Song,” the first of three spectacular singles from the album. “Garden Song” feels classically Bridgers — evocative, confessional and bolstered by limited instrumentals. Her voice is elevated by the song’s simplicity and the deep background vocals layered atop hers in the chorus. It feels as though the song never concludes — as if “Garden Song” could loop forever without growing weary. “Moon Song” and “Savior Complex” follow in this cyclical fashion, but Bridgers’ simplicity is never boring. “Kyoto” and “ICU,” the album’s other two singles, carry the exhilaration of her monumental song “Motion Sickness” from “Stranger in the Alps.” “ICU” in particular is a hazy dream — an electronic-laden UFO message from an otherworldly, talented artist. The same applies to “Chinese Satellite,” in which her trademark quiet revelations are simultaneously heartbreaking and thrilling. She also rhymes “evangelicals” with “vegetable.” Who else could do this with such ease, like these two words were meant to be laced together? The concluding track, “I Know The End,” destroys all notions that Bridgers thrives only on velvety, low-tempo songs. The song is a crescendo of bright horns and, eventually, Bridgers herself screaming long and loud. She again floods this song with waves of bursting drums, an invited suppressing force that engulfs the listener. Yet she lets up just at the end, her screams turning into a whispered exhale. She chuckles slightly. This must have been the conquering end Bridgers said she knew — an end in which her album would ask to be played on a constant loop, superb in execution and tremendous in its conclusion. 119