On May 11, 2021, a minor pop schism occurred. It was the first British awards in the pandemic, delayed by a few months from the ceremony's usual February date. That night, two young stars who made their names in lockdown made huge debuts: Olivia Rodrigo's first live performance, with 'License to Drive', and UK pop songwriter Griff's second, Gotye-like 'Black Hole'. Backstage, that year's Global Icon winner Taylor Swift held court in her dressing room, inviting the two self-proclaimed Swifties to share chips and take silly selfies.
Not two months later, it emerged that Swift had received 50% of the writing for Rodrigo's song “deja vu”, which had a slightly similar bridge to her song “Cruel Summer”, leading to an apparent distance between the two . Meanwhile, Swift continued to shout out Griff and invited her to support a recent Eras London date, praising her from the stage as “so creative on every level.” What's surprising about the continued support, given the apparent cause of Swift and Rodrigo's estrangement, is how deeply indebted Griff's debut album is, Vertigo, it's in Swift's sound.
These years Department of Tormented Poets download the boom and shine of Swift's 2014 album 1989which is further diluted by their extremely tasteful pop songs Vertigo. Racing pulses are never in danger of causing alarm. The bubbling synths would barely disturb the surface of any lake. War drums are more ceremonial than prepared for battle. There's a cavernous, weighty sheen to the production that reminds me of how the 1989 part of the Eras tour reverberates around the stadium every night. Quieter songs like “Into the Walls” and “Everlasting” immediately evoke his tenderly plucked strings and rhythms Folklore and Forever.
Of course, none of this suggests that Griff should be held responsible for taking inspiration from a formative songwriting hero (she said her earliest musical memory is picking up an iPod loaded with Fearless and playing it on repeat) or that creativity should be treated this way. It's just one aspect of how strangely derivative this long-gestating debut is. Tilt it this way and you hear London Grammar's Official Services (psychedelic ballad 'Astronaut', courtesy of Chris Martin's piano). that and the long tail of 2010s Scandi pop enthusiasm that never anointed any proper pop stars (the desperate, cathartic dip of the catchy “Miss Me Too” has Robyn in its DNA). Here's some MUNA (the gently rough and ecstatic “Anything”); here's quite a bit from 1975 (the snapping “Hiding Alone,” the surprisingly laid-back dance breaks of “Cycles”).
