Rating: 7/10
It wasn’t until about 10 years ago that Suki Waterhouse made her debut in the music world. She spent her teens and early 20s glistening under the spotlight as a model and actress before releasing her first single “Brutally” in 2016.
Eight years later, Waterhouse evolved with a new sound, theme and era — “Memoir of a Sparklemuffin.”
Though the title of her second album is undeniably laughable, according to NME, it alludes to the colorful, dancing Australian spider that Waterhouse equates herself to.
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“When I saw him, I was like, ‘I’m you; I am the sparklemuffin,’” Waterhouse said in an interview with NME. “He also cannibalizes his mate if she doesn’t enjoy the male’s dance, and I thought, ‘Yeah, I can cannibalize myself and others … but I’m also this silly little spider that’s dancing for her life, who wants to wear nice hats and have fun at the party.’”
The iridescent, glimmering spider of which the album is named, and the shiny, cinematic album cover that features Waterhouse among glittering accents and muted tones perfectly reflect the album as a whole — dusky drum beats winding along wistful vocals and intricate production.
Though the album gives a nostalgic, lighthearted and dreamy bedroom pop vibe for many of the tracks, there is still a sense of melancholy from her previous album, hidden discreetly under the obvious pop glare.
“My Fun” is a playful combination of indie rock and pop, with Waterhouse wistfully reminiscing about summer and joyfully ruminating about her lover.
“You make me laugh, you bless my sneeze,” she sings against sparkling keys and a folk-sounding recorder that elevates the cheerfulness of the song. “God, it feels so good to find someone/ Who loves me/ Who loves me like I love my fun.”
She’s mischievously self-aware, with bright eyes and an intoxicating vocality that shines through each track, even when the lyrics lack substance.
“Faded” starts with a Yoko Ono reference before delving into an unabashed depiction of her past relationship with a man who looked “like James Dean from the internet.”
The alluring soft-rock melodies and Waterhouse’s silky vocals, though beautiful, often can’t distract from dull and occasionally cringe lyricism.
Waterhouse tries to get away with it, and for many tracks, she does just that — distracting the listener with her ethereal atmospheric production and sultry ballads.
But at some point, you can’t help but notice that there is nothing under the lyricism, besides shallow metaphors and tired aesthetics.
“I’m mentally ill and that’s why you date me,” she croons on “Everybody Breaks Up Anyways,” not conveying much emotion other than what would be written in a 13-year-old girl’s diary.
“Supersad” is a velvety, glam pop song about her tumultuous relationship with herself, guided by a crackling drum beat and fuzzy guitar melody.
“Everything’s going wrong/ Tryna reach out, but I can’t find my phone,” Waterhouse sings, the music video depicting her restlessly lying in bed, scrolling on her phone and picking at her face in the mirror.
It’s a relatable enough song that documents the internal chaos that people often feel within their own lives. Not everything has to be profound caverns of meaning, and in the case of “Supersad” sometimes relatable enough is enough.
“Model, Actress, Whatever” shows a more intimate version of Waterhouse, with glistening lyrics and a silky melody.
“The bigger the ocean, the deeper the blue/ Call me a model, an actress, whatever,” Waterhouse sings, her alluring voice giving way to undiluted emotion.
Themes of past relationships and internal struggles are prevalent throughout the album, but only on the surface level. You might hear glimpses of self-hatred or some kind of unidentified longing, but it’s quickly whisked away by captivating instrumentation that coats each song.
Take “Memoir of a Sparklemuffin” for what it is: an enjoyable, sonically sound production that is fun and glittery but not much else.
