Charm
The word "charm" brings a few different connotations to mind. The ability to please or arouse another person with a smile and a friendly demeanor is a rather harmless, natural quality that many possess. On the other hand, this quality can also be manipulated for ill intent, lulling one into a false sense of security before administering a poison. In the third album by Claire Cottrill, both turn out to be true. Though charm is not a lie sold under false pretenses, its inviting analog world—a corduroy couch in the warm glow of sunlight—holds an undercurrent that is, at times, surprisingly challenging, and often dissonant. It's laced with deceit in a delightful manner. This isn't a continuation of Sling like the opening track, "Nomad," may have otherwise stated, with its gentle keys, strings, and whisper-sweet vocal melodies, nor is it the groovy summer bop that first single "Sexy to Someone" had me imagining. There are elements much stranger, more experimental, or borderline psychedelic at play here. Conceptually, Charm is an innocent attempt to capture the electric pulse between two people in various stages of romance: meaningful glances, gradual obsession, the ever-distracting potency of closeness, and brushed skin. As her band drifts downstream on a shag carpet riverboat equipped with vintage synthesizers, mellotrons, wurlitzers, vibraphones, flutes, and saxophones, Cottrill sighs on courtship and heartbreak. She traces back the same luxurious instrumentation that surrounded her on Sling and merges it with the carefree bedroom pop sensibility of Immunity, seeking to fill in some missing link in her discography and find something that's completely and utterly her own inbetween. It's within this symphony of quirky instruments that the oddly off-kilter clashing harmonies lie in wait, like a jack-in-the-box within the reeds, ready to rock our peaceful boat ride on its head. Mere high-end deviation at the chorus of the third track, "Second Nature," had me climbing the walls and into my mind to brace myself for what would destroy me from the later songs like "Juna," "Echo," and "Glory of the Snow."
Not all of these tracks are this far out, but Clairo has thrown enough curveballs into this record to have successfully subverted my expectations. I had to meet her in the middle just to find any joy out of this project, and I am not sold how much out of self-imposed Stockholm syndrome it comes from desperate attempts at finding some common thread that strings these songs together. Psychedelic folk, jazz, soft rock, soul—there's just a lot going on, and, frequently, it doesn't work perfectly. Ultimately, though, a boring song structure just cannot be saved with funky instruments and hippy-dippy antics. Meditative is great, but repetitive ends up being what many of these tracks fall under. Also, Cottrill's vocal performance was lackluster. Gone, in large part, are the tear-jerking, bittersweet vocal melodies of old; in their place is something very much standoffish and less proprietous—it's as if Cottrill is trailing off into daydream. Perhaps this is entirely on brand for the album's vibe, but it doesn't do anything to make these songs shine nearly as brightly as they could, producing an overall record that is best suited to doing menial tasks around the house. While as much of me as possible would wish this record was really just Sling-but-better, I do respect Clairo for trying something new and swinging for the bleachers. I'd just tell everyone to drop your expectations at the door if you want to take anything from the experience of Charm. It is literally the definition of a grower, and I don't by any means feel like I've discovered even close to it all yet.
CLAIRO - CHARM
RATING - 8.5/10
FAVORITE TRACKS - Sexy to someone, Juna, Slow Dance
GENRE - Jazz, Soul music, Soft rock, Psychedelic folk