Carly Rae Jepsen famously assembles her albums by drawing from a pool of dozens of potential songs, and The Loneliest Time is the result of sessions that produced 65-plus outtakes, according to the pop star herself (and that's not including the ones that actually appear on the album).
In theory, this should be a good thing, providing Jepsen with enough material to assemble a rock-solid album. But the result is that The Loneliest Time barely feels like an album, instead playing out like a fragmented mish-mash of (mostly) good ideas that never cohere. Of the 13 songs that make up The Loneliest Time (excluding the bonus tracks), there are 13 different producers, so no wonder it doesn't have much of a perspective.
The highs are high: "Western Wind" and "Far Away" tap into the sentimental sweetness of '90s adult contemporary pop, with warm synth pads and smooth drum loops à la "Damn I Wish Your Lover" or "Kind & Generous." "Surrender My Heart" is a self-directed pep talk about emotional availability, its gigantic '80s synths tapping into the same sense of lovestruck wonder that made "Cut to the Feeling" one of CRJ's career highlights. (Thankfully, she puts "Surrender My Heart" as the opening track where it belongs, instead of relegating it to a children's movie soundtrack like the painfully mismanaged "Cut to the Feeling"). And closer "The Loneliest Time" is a glorious duet with Rufus Wainwright, its sparkling disco strings setting the fairytale atmosphere for its story of romantic reconciliation. Jepson's wonderfully silly, infectious declaration of "I'm coming back for you!" has already become a meme on TikTok.
These highlights are more wizened and damaged-by-life than "Call Me Maybe" — but they tap into a similar sense of yearning. Instead of fawning over a new crush, she's now encouraging herself to correct past wrongs while still retaining her giddy optimism.
But any hope of a consistent, unified album are dashed by the dismal "Beach House," a rundown of dating disasters that should be entertaining but turns into embarrassing sketch comedy with escalating warnings that go from "I'm probably gonna hurt your feelings" to "I'm probably gonna harvest your organs." With a bridge of canned-sounding acoustic reggae, it resembles a generic backing track dredged up from the darkest depths of Hayu.
Elsewhere, the ill-fitting "Go Find Yourself or Whatever" is a folk rock ballad with acoustic instrumentation that doesn't sound remotely like the rest of the album, especially when its faux-sitar solo suspiciously resembles "Champagne Supernova." "Joshua Tree" is promising enough until the lazy "dat da-da-da-da-dah" hook falls flat.
The Loneliest Time is desperately calling for a firmer curatorial hand — or, at the very least, someone to nix "Beach House" and replace it with dreamy new wave bonus track "Anxious." But despite its flaws, The Loneliest Time's highlights are well worth adding to a "Best of 2022" playlist.
(604)In theory, this should be a good thing, providing Jepsen with enough material to assemble a rock-solid album. But the result is that The Loneliest Time barely feels like an album, instead playing out like a fragmented mish-mash of (mostly) good ideas that never cohere. Of the 13 songs that make up The Loneliest Time (excluding the bonus tracks), there are 13 different producers, so no wonder it doesn't have much of a perspective.
The highs are high: "Western Wind" and "Far Away" tap into the sentimental sweetness of '90s adult contemporary pop, with warm synth pads and smooth drum loops à la "Damn I Wish Your Lover" or "Kind & Generous." "Surrender My Heart" is a self-directed pep talk about emotional availability, its gigantic '80s synths tapping into the same sense of lovestruck wonder that made "Cut to the Feeling" one of CRJ's career highlights. (Thankfully, she puts "Surrender My Heart" as the opening track where it belongs, instead of relegating it to a children's movie soundtrack like the painfully mismanaged "Cut to the Feeling"). And closer "The Loneliest Time" is a glorious duet with Rufus Wainwright, its sparkling disco strings setting the fairytale atmosphere for its story of romantic reconciliation. Jepson's wonderfully silly, infectious declaration of "I'm coming back for you!" has already become a meme on TikTok.
These highlights are more wizened and damaged-by-life than "Call Me Maybe" — but they tap into a similar sense of yearning. Instead of fawning over a new crush, she's now encouraging herself to correct past wrongs while still retaining her giddy optimism.
But any hope of a consistent, unified album are dashed by the dismal "Beach House," a rundown of dating disasters that should be entertaining but turns into embarrassing sketch comedy with escalating warnings that go from "I'm probably gonna hurt your feelings" to "I'm probably gonna harvest your organs." With a bridge of canned-sounding acoustic reggae, it resembles a generic backing track dredged up from the darkest depths of Hayu.
Elsewhere, the ill-fitting "Go Find Yourself or Whatever" is a folk rock ballad with acoustic instrumentation that doesn't sound remotely like the rest of the album, especially when its faux-sitar solo suspiciously resembles "Champagne Supernova." "Joshua Tree" is promising enough until the lazy "dat da-da-da-da-dah" hook falls flat.
The Loneliest Time is desperately calling for a firmer curatorial hand — or, at the very least, someone to nix "Beach House" and replace it with dreamy new wave bonus track "Anxious." But despite its flaws, The Loneliest Time's highlights are well worth adding to a "Best of 2022" playlist.
