a review of clairo's "sling"

in an unexpected change in musical style, clairo tackles domesticity, becoming a dog mom, and mental health during the pandemic

This week last summer, Taylor Swift surprised fans with the drop of her album Folklore and its change in musical style for the singer. Soundtracking the late summer mid-pandemic, the storytelling and earthy style of music came at a time where we needed the escapism most. Like kids reading fairy tales before bedtime, Taylor lulled us with the stories she told. Personally, last summer was a memorable low-point for me, when the pandemic had really broken me down, and Folklore was (unexpectedly) one of my biggest comforts through the worst of it.

Clairo’s newest album Sling has notes of Folklore within it. There are obvious similarities between the two albums, which I almost believe are intentional, and it has everything to do with producer Jack Antonoff, who worked on both albums. The albums are both significant style changes for the singers, especially when compared to the albums they released right before (for Taylor, it was the poppy Lover, and for Clairo, the bedroom-pop Garage Band album, Immunity). Seeing as Jack approached Clairo for this project, and seeing how Clairo’s album was released almost exactly a year after Taylor’s, I have a feeling he was trying to repeat the success of Folklore. And I don’t mean to downplay Clairo’s work by saying it was some sort of ruse to piggyback off of Taylor’s success last year, because it absolutely works. I believe Sling is a strong contender for 2021’s album of the year.

In an interview with Apple Music, Clairo stated that “a lot of the record is about settling down, and domesticity, […] and thinking about what work I need to put in for me to create a really proactive place to raise a kid or even just raise a dog, in my case.” She explores this theme of domesticity through the lyrics that weave throughout the album. The heart of the album and of this theme is in the song “Zinnias,” which is the moment where we hear the album title.

Quietly, I’m tempted

Sure sounds nice to settle down for a while

Let the real estate show itself to me

I could wake up with a baby in a sling

Just a couple doors down from Abigail

My sister, man and her ring

Lyrically, this album is beautiful. She teeters a line between subtle poetry and a diaristic method of sharing her thoughts and doesn’t hold back on uncomfortable subjects. On “Blouse,” a song reminiscent of her idol Elliott Smith (she admitted to doubling the vocals and guitar on this track in classic Elliott style), the thesis of the song absolutely punches you in the gut. Only few can master disappointment, frustration and sadness into a line so simplistic. The song seems as though it’s a lullaby, yet one that is drenched in vulnerability.

If touch can make them hear, then touch me now.

She gets more vulnerable in the track “Just For Today,” discussing her experiences with mental health and the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, with similarly devastating lyrics to her 2019 song “Alewife.” I was gutted when she first shared the song on IGTV in January and am grateful that she was able to be vulnerable both on Instagram with her fans and on her record. It’s one of the simplest tracks with the biggest impact.

But it’s not the lyrics or the vulnerability that attract me the most to this album. What makes it most special to me is the music, the instrumentals. As much as I enjoy standard pop music in 4/4 time and standard chord structure (I’m being sincere here, I do really love pop music), something about complex chord structures and rhythms and key changes sends a certain warm feeling to my body. A complicated piece of music in mainstream releases today is rare, so it not only means it was carefully crafted and thought out, but it means that the producers and writers have the knowledge, talent, and understanding to put it all together. What Clairo and Jack (and whoever else helped write the music) did was not easy. They are talented, and they know it.

If you’re not convinced about the music on this record, put on the entirely instrumental track “Joanie,” dedicated to Clairo’s dog, and go on a bike ride or walk on a summer afternoon. There’s magic in that song, and love.

posted by Clairo on Twitter and Instagram

Otherwise, if instrumental songs aren’t for you (side note: I think that every album should have an instrumental … there are a whole range of emotions that can be explored through music alone that all artists should try if possible), you can hear the musical complexities within every other song. One of my favorite tracks, “Bambi,” has a jazzy feel and multiple key changes and instrumental segments that carry you into the next section of the song. It makes moments punch, or at least, stand out more, such as the key change into the bridge when she sings “Take it or leave it/The moments here/And you should believe it,” which creates a satisfying resolved feeling.

The music of Sling is experimental, especially for Clairo and for any mainstream artist in 2021. It creates such a unique sound for the record, and a certain feeling of nostalgia and whimsy. It feels timeless, like we’ve been listening to this album forever, although it hasn’t even been out a week at this point. I think a large aspect of that is the obvious 60s and 70s influences, where I can cite specific moments that remind me of Simon & Garfunkel or Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young or The Beatles. There’s a sort of childlike wonder to it as well, almost as if it’s the soundtrack of a 70s children’s TV special or a Disney movie. Or it’s what’s playing in the background of my memories of my summers as a child.

There have been really meaningful pieces of art that are products of the pandemic, and Clairo’s Sling is one of them. She romanticizes life at home in a beautiful way, speaking on the pure comfort that comes from domesticity and settling down. And personally, this album came (once again, unexpectedly) at the perfect time for me just as Folklore came to me last year. I’m moving out of my childhood home in just a few days, and facing the sadness that I won’t be living close to my parents, I won’t have a front porch to read on, and I won’t have the large sense of comfort from living in the same bedroom my whole life. With Clairo, I have a feeling of hope that the space I move into is going to be a space that is my own, a space that I can bring my own comfort into. I need her whimsical, childlike songs to remind me to romanticize the changes and transitions I’m facing now to grow into a newer person. And maybe I’ll even explore the challenges through motherhood once I’m on my own, although it might just be with a couple of houseplants to start.

…