On the last track of her third album, Clairo is on the pier, “playing moments where there was a touch.” Just a touch: more intimate than a distant tingle, sure, but not a kiss or even as much as a hug. These kinds of experiences – when the memory of a tiny gesture captures your full attention – are hallmarks of Claire Cottrill's best songwriting, like the flushed cheeks of “Bags” or the objective stares of “Blouse.” On Charmkeeps her attention on those fleeting touches, but pairs them with rich, lush production, delving deeper into a smooth rock sound that's both smoldering and whimsical.
Charm it's not a dramatic change in the manner of Clairo's 2021 sophomore album Sling. After gaining viral fame as a teenager on the strength of her sweet lo-fi YouTube uploads, Clairo released Immunity, immunity, her impressive debut produced by Rostam Batmanglij. Then he took a left turn. He moved to upstate New York, teamed up with producer Jack Antonoff, and holed up in the woods to make Sling. Where Immunity, immunity showed Clairo's affinity with bedroom pop favorites such as Frankie Cosmos, Sling worshiped at the altar of Carole King—a pastoral, folksy album that seemed completely uninterested in chasing her past or reaching for new pop hits.
To do Charm, Clairo teamed up with another up-and-coming producer, Leon Michels, known for his work on the El Michels affair and as a member of the Dap-Kings. Together, they dug deeper into the 70s palette that Clairo developed Sling and crafted arrangements dense with Wurlitzer, mellotron, piano and organ. “Slow Dance” ends with flute and clarinet. “Terrapin” is full of piano flourishes. If Antonoff's production continues Sling sometimes it felt cool or atmospheric, Charm it radiates a palpable warmth. Moreover, most of these songs streak. Clairo's vocals remain, by and large, hushed, but thanks to the gold-toned production, her voice sounds more like a murmur in the ear of a smitten than a sheepish first-date mumble.
The intimate experiences that Clairo examines Charm it's about, he said, “fleeting moments … where I've been fascinated or fascinated” and the phantasms such moments can produce. It's a mood CharmHer sultry confidence and retro thrust are easily evoked: “You make me want/Go buy a new dress,” she sings on “Juna,” “You make me want/Slip on a new dress.” On “Sexy to Someone,” a cozy song about wanting to be wanted, Clairo's light voice swings atop playful, funky production. Even in more downbeat moments—when Clairo sings of a love while she's “alone at the top” or describes how she'll “pull the rope/That binds me to the memories/The way I loved you”—the music doesn't roll. never .
Rarely do these songs stray from this refined palette. She's doing well, but it marks Charm as yet another successful but bland soft-rock outing, a format with somewhat diminishing returns. One song towards the end of the album gently breaks away from the rest: “Echo”, a spacey highlight where the psychedelic synths and crazy delivery of Clairo bring it closer to Broadcast than Carly Simon. It's a strange tune about a love that “goes nowhere,” whose musical gestures enhance its lyrical ones. It's the everyday details and tiny imperfections that make Clairo's music uniquely alluring. It's a new kind of Clairo song, but it has what makes the best Clairo songs so memorable.
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