Lizzy McAlpine's "Angel" Stings, But Doesn't Show Much Development
Written Louise Geri
Lizzy McAlpine’s fourth studio album, Angel, combines sonic elements of earlier albums with her classic cutting lyricism to make a new high-quality, but not necessarily innovative record.
McAlpine is a sentimental lyricist of the sad-girl-pop realm with a comforting sound, well-recognized in the songwriting world. She’s journeyed from the bright guitar-led Give Me A Minute (2020) to the often flat-falling five seconds flat (2022) to the ominous piano-led Older (2024), to now, the amalgamative Angel. The new album mixes the flat sound of her sophomore record with the borderline-creepy energy of her third album but makes both characteristics sound better than before.
The Angel rollout had a red herring. The plodding love song “The light in the painting” worked in tandem with the warm-colored album cover to set a romantic tone. However, upon the release of the second single, “Ugly things,” it became clear that McAlpine hadn’t in fact let her breakup roots go. The singer grovels, “All the ugly things that you’re doing now… wish they made me not love you.” The track is already an album highlight, opening with wistful guitar string-plucking and layering harmonies as it progresses, showcasing the singer’s strength in the sad-lyric realm while building in a way that exemplifies her better production moments.
Songs about the evolution of a breakup are the best on the record, particularly the tracks touching on breakups as they relate to McAlpine’s career. In “A car wash and a new pair of pants,” the singer feels used for her fame, but warns her ex the success they got from her isn’t going to feel as good with her gone. Near-perfect “Peach” shows McAlpine realizing her and her ex going their separate ways and continuing their careers from a distance was the right thing to do. With simple instrumentals, her voice holds immense power. She builds to a scream over the lyric, “There’s finally nowhere I can run/nobody to hide behind/I needed this, I needed time… and I’m cutting a peach in my kitchen while you’re playing a show.”
If that ripped your heart out, be prepared. “Our Strange Ways”, hauntingly describing how McAlpine’s life might be if she’d never met one of her exes, feels the same as the 1946 holiday film "It's a Wonderful Life.” The song starts with her being a busker no one swooped in and discovered. It builds to a mystical instrumental interlude where vocals crooning, “A world without you…” sound like wind. It’s a refreshing improvement from the rest of the emotionally shattering but slightly too slow track. The song ends a seven-minute and 23-second run with a voice memo-sounding interlude of McAlpine metaphorically describing how the relationship grew and then burned.
Still, McAlpine talks about her career in a non-heartbroken context. She sings in acoustic guitar-based “Mason’s Song” of the ups and downs of her friendship with co-writer and producer Mason Stoops: “I sing for myself, I am a better friend, you sound like yourself again.” Light keyboard riffing after the chorus line, “I can’t do it alone,” gets me. Then, “The Crowd” isn’t really about McAlpine’s career but touches on it. She continues a tradition of writing every track thirteen about her late father. Over piano, she discusses everything she grieves about him, from lost memories to unsaid words. She stretches her words for the choruses, singing, “Everything I do, I make it big so you can hear the crowd.”
Breakup songs entirely absent of discussion of McAlpine’s career include the piano ballad “Anybody’s Fool,” which burns. “I know this is right, and I know that it’s sad/want you to want me again like that,” she sings as she tries to track down her ex. Still, she solemnly concludes, “I like the way it feels to not be anybody’s fool.” “Two elevens” continues the strong-lyrics-boring-melody feeling from “Our Strange Ways.” But really, ow, “The picture I still look at just to feel what I know: there was love once.”
The weaker points of the album, aside from the lead, include “I have a friend,” “The moon,” and “Soldier of the road (feat. Fleet Foxes).” The first doesn’t stand out to me. The production of “The moon” makes me feel slightly dizzy. “Soldier of the road” stresses me out, exemplifying the bad vibes of McAlpine’s third album, but with less lyrical merit.
The two love songs I adore are “Over country” and “Angel.” I love the diversity in things you could apply the unconditional love-oriented former track to. “Angel” is merely a cute album closer; nothing groundbreaking, but it leaves me in a good mood.
Going forward, I’d love to see McAlpine try a faster pace in her music. I hope her style stays on the softer side of pop, but I also hope she can find a way to pursue that sound while being more adventurous with her melodies. Nonetheless, I hope she never changes her brutal lyricism.
Stream Angel on all platforms now. Stay posted on McAlpine’s Instagram (@lizzymcalpine) for potential tour announcements.
