Album Review: Kim Petras - Clarity

It can be difficult to parse exactly how the career of Kim Petras has maintained any sort of hype, given that her catalog until very recently has consisted of only a single EP, a seemingly endless number of formulaic singles, and the occasional feature on a Charli XCX project. There is no lack of talent or pop appeal in her style, certainly, but it would also be difficult to zero in on exactly what makes her unique when her music cannot help but be drowned in the influence of her peers - a dash of Lady Gaga, a heaping dose of Charli, a touch of Ariana Grande. The release of her debut album Clarity should have marked a long-overdue statement of artistic intent, but the more things change, the more they stay the same: nine of the record's twelve tracks were spoiled early as a series of singles. In context with one another, they form the backbone of what is a consistently average experience that delivers on the promise of promiscuous, catchy electropop about as often as it fumbles it, and fails to present a compelling vision of Petras' approach.

Her production certainly isn't doing much to establish Petras' more noteworthy aspects; when the album does deviate from its formula of unremarkable dance-pop, its use of stock trap percussion reeks of a lack of originality at least as much as the gratuitous synths. The distinct PC Music sheen (which Petras has sung on top of before) is also present, weaved into the distorted electronics of tracks like Personal Hell and making her sound even more like a poor man's Charli XCX. The variety in sound is nice, but Petras' producers fabricate only pale imitations of SOPHIE's singular brilliance, and Kim herself cannot push herself to mesh with such an idiosyncratic style in the same way that Vince Staples felt born to rap over such off-kilter beats.

Even more egregious, however, is that she continues to work with infamous writer-producer Dr. Luke, who was accused of a long history of abuse by Kesha in 2014 and who has a hand in much of Petras' work, including every single song on Clarity. His continued presence in her music is not only disappointing, but baffling considering the shadow it casts on her career (and her character) in return for unimaginative production and often underwhelming, occasionally insufferable lyricism. Furthermore, it feels appropriate to give Petras most of the credit for admittedly powerful highs like the suggestive Do Me and the vulnerable Personal Hell ("When you kiss me, boy, I don't need pills"), and thus his controversial appearance seems all the more unnecessary in the face of Petras' talents.

Speaking of, the former track is perhaps the purest expression of exactly why Petras is so celebrated among her fans: an unabashedly sexual groove that alternates between slick, innuendo-rich verses and a shouted chorus that does away with any and all thematic pretense: "Do me, do me, do me like that/Hurt me so good, make me wanna be bad." Straddling the line of sensual and hilarious while never straying too far from the ethereal, synth-heavy beat; this is the Kim Petras that no one else can replicate. Unfortunately, the very next track Meet The Parents is almost the antithesis of such innovation: trap production, garish autotune, and a thoroughly uninteresting premise that ultimately devolves into little more than an excuse for Petras to flaunt her wealth. The difference in quality between the two is enough to give one auditory whiplash, a problem that recurs throughout the album.

Between these cacophonous highs and dismal lows lie a slew of tracks that, while acceptable and even promising at times, constantly feel lacking in one way or another. The thumping bass and earworm hook of Got My Number are enjoyable, yet the song cannot escape its trying, tedious lyricism even while poking fun at itself. Sweet Spot is similarly catchy, yet lacks the sort of instrumental punch needed to leave a lasting impression. The title track and Broken employ the aforementioned trap percussion copiously, sticking out just enough to be distinctly irritating; All I Do Is Cry suffers for it also but is eventually taken over by Petras' strained crooning, to the song's detriment.

If the release of Clarity was the first time the public were exposed to Kim Petras' music, it might be understandable that so many of her devoted fans see her as something special in the pop world. But after countless loose singles hinting at the potential of her personal style, that her full-length debut is this underwhelming is more than a little troubling with regard to any future projects. The record often feels like the vaguely connected string of songs it was largely released as, and the vast difference in quality between the best and worst of what it has to offer is bizarre given how homogeneous of an experience the album is. Despite all of this, however, its moments of promise can be truly captivating, even if Petras' first attempt at a full-length project leaves much to be desired.

5/10

Favourite Tracks: Icy, Personal Hell, Do Me

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