Ariana Grande - thank u, next

Ariana Grande - thank u, next

“I understand to a lot of people I'm not a real person.”

A recent interview concerning her newest album saw pop superstar Ariana Grande utter these words on the record. When I reached this point of the transcript, I grimaced loudly in my chair. The next line - “But at the end of the day, these are people and relationships. It's real shit to me.”

This has always been the case for Grande's persona. The private and public. The dominant and the innocent. The world-conquering pop star and the girl who fell so head over heels, she got engaged after only a few months. For what seems like her entire career, AG has been a passenger in the car as regards to her public perception (“I read the things they write about me. Hear what they're sayin’ on the TV, it's crazy. It’s gettin' hard for them to shock me” - ‘Fake Smiles’). Too often have people shaped the narrative for her, be it the cruelly unfair blame she received for the death of Mac Miller or the overtly messy split that saw her abandon her engagement. 

Enter thank u, next. Enough, it seems, is enough.

Grande’s fiercest weapon has always been her tonal range. It’s what made her transformation from child star to pop diva so seamless. No longer, however, is it used to tell tale of fanciful swinging romances or crocodile tear ballads. Grande adopts a fierce snarl in her latest, and arguably best, LP. Lush beats and a slow dance passion display a previously unseen abject vulnerability, while her melding of R&B/Trap beats and a ‘Boss B****’ persona sees her wrench the steering wheel free. The pain is still raw and real, but for the first time in her career, Grande seems like the one calling the shots. And you’re on her time.

Musically, the pop stars sixth is a superb take on the contemporary soundscape. Starting with an initial pop air, the atmosphere darkens as the bass drops. Where puppy dog eyes began, a wolf’s muzzle emerges. Beats range from lustful R&B, forlorn pop and gritty trap, with each mood illustrated by a different vibe. Album opener ‘imagine’ is a dreamy ballad, a serenade to simplicity, the boppy ‘make up’ is a rap/pop tongue in cheek break from the action and the murky trap punk of ‘bad idea’ drips in nostalgia and regret. Diversification is key, and Grande has managed to immerse herself in a wide range of influences, each one with its own personality. 

What’s more, the jarring shift between these mindsets acts as a reminder of the mood swings and emotional complexities that accompany traumatic events. The trio of songs, 'needy' - 'NASA' - 'bloodline', see Grande alternate between regretful, amorous and resolute, the millennial stages of grief, and yet she never appears dramatic. Cautious at times, scarred even, but never afraid. All signs point toward Grande’s development as a fiercely intelligent and self-sufficient individual, with a soundtrack to match.

It can be seen as curious then, as to why Grande has conveyed so much importance on her ex-lovers in this album.  The eponymous track names and thanks all four of them individually.  Furthermore, the most sonically impressive number on the album is the haunting ‘Ghostin’, which doesn't disregard subtle metaphors as much as it kicks the notion of them down the stairs and sets it alight. Aching with agony and emotionally torturous, AG's attempts to make sense of her grief with the use of ethereal vocals and spectral pulses. All while the spirit of the late Miller hangs over the track.  And yet, upon examination, his presence is perfectly simple, as is the case for the rest - 

“One taught me love

  One taught me patience

  And one taught me pain

  Now, I'm so amazing…

  

  …Plus, I met someone else

  We havin' better discussions

   I know they say I move on too fast

  But this one gon' last

  'Cause her name is Ari.”

Grande acknowledges that, without each of them, she would not be the woman she is today. And for that she is thankful. But they have to take back seat now. This metamorphosis from item to entrée is significant for her, as it forms much of the mentality of thank u, next. Her mix of sophisticated pop, uncompromising introspection, sparkling synth and fearlessness would not have born fruit if not for the trials and tribulations that preceded them. Neither the breathless vocals of ‘in my head’ nor the bitter trap bite of ‘fake smile’ would pack the same punch without them. Experiences have informed her actions, and Grande is clearly sick of playing catch up in her own life.

The heavy hitters of thank u, next are reserved for the latter half of the album, with the metronome sass and nursery rhyme grime of hit ‘7 Rings’ taking centre stage. More than anything, this track personifies the chrysalis that takes place throughout the album. Cultural appropriation/appreciation controversy aside (which I won't comment on as I don’t understand it nearly well enough, so look here if interested), this number sees Grande at her most malevolent and benevolent. Feeling like a true turning point, this is her “DOWN GOES FRASIER,” her 13 second Aldo Knock Out, and is the clearest example of the songstress taking control of her destiny. In a genre that’s typically unkind to women (Cardi B being the exception), Grande makes it her own, sculpting it to fit her grief, fit her narrative. While the world would cast her as the weeping damsel or, cruelly and falsely, as the cold seductress who shared blame in the death of Miller, AG responds with a strut that spans continents, withering side eyes and razor-sharp magnum vocals.

thank u, next manages to blow all expectation surrounding it out of the water. Ariana Grande has never more potent, nor urgent than right now. Don’t be fooled into thinking this is a breakup album however. If anything, it's a declaration of ownership, an assumption of authority over her grief, her mistakes, her love, life, past and future. And as personal as it is, it's stunningly relatable. Her admission of faults, her desire for renewal, her love for her friends, these are all significant themes, ones in which only the coldest of hearts fail to feel solidarity. And they’re important parts of the new Grande, who has both hands on the wheel and her foot pressed firmly on the accelerator. I don’t see her giving up either without a fight anytime soon, and lord protect anyone who should try to dictate otherwise.