The word Smitten, which Manchester’s Pale Waves have taken as the title of their fourth album, has two contrasting definitions. Most commonly, it refers to the condition of being strongly attracted to someone, but in literature, it is often used to denote being struck by a firm blow. Across 12 tracks, it becomes clear that this title was the perfect choice: attraction, yearning, and the turbulence of romantic relationships pervade the album throughout, and it is delivered as a firm blow in the form of a band who have developed their own distinctive sound.
Opening with a gentle, The Cure-esque guitar riff, ‘Glasgow’ instantly marks Smitten out as a return to the old Pale Waves: swapping the angsty pop-punk of Who Am I? and Unwanted for the solemnity and sincerity of My Mind Makes Noises, with even the lyricism evoking the same youthful melancholy laced within the band’s debut. “I love this city cos it’s all or nothing / It’s always cold but it’s oh so loving” is noticeably reminiscent of the “This city depresses me” of My Mind Makes Noises highlight ‘Eighteen’. ‘Glasgow’ also has a similar nostalgic sound which mirrors vocalist Heather Baron-Gracie’s retrospective lyrical content: by looking back on experiences in the named city with a previous significant other, Baron-Gracie creates an introspective and emotional atmosphere before concluding that “there was nothing left for us to repair”.
Another aspect brought back from the My Mind Makes Noises era is the thoughtful contemplation and inspection of both the internal and external which reverberates throughout Smitten. While the tracks of Who Am I? and Unwanted were primarily driven by turbulent, hostile lyricism and filled with bitter asides directed at ex-partners, Smitten sees a lovestruck Baron-Gracie develop a remarkably strong power of description, conjuring images through her words. This is no clearer than in ‘Gravity’, which adopts a storytelling approach from its opening line before exploring the effect of religion on queer relationships.
‘Not a Love Song’ is a sultry, lustful track detailing undercover affairs and secretive rendezvouses, but Baron-Gracie clarifies from the beginning that “we don’t end up together”. ‘Thinking About You’ provides quite the contrast, focusing instead on the end of a previous relationship and the attachment that lingers in the aftermath. Lead single ‘Perfume’ glistens and gleams with romance and captures a similar yearning, standing out as a highlight amongst the twelve evocative, captivating tracks. A simple, repetitive chorus sees Baron-Gracie declare “I wanna make you my girl” as guitarist Hugo Silvani provides an enchanting, entrancing riff to match the lyrics’ euphoric desire. Across these three tracks, then, the band tell three distinctive, differing tales of romance, but the message behind them remains the same: when the singer falls in love, she falls hard, becoming easily Smitten.
‘Last Train Home’ sees Baron-Gracie’s vocals shine as she contemplates a lost romantic relationship, reflecting on the safety, solace and comfort she previously found in the song’s subject. Silvani, bassist Charlie Wood and drummer Ciara Doran mirror her emotionally charged performance, with the track’s instrumentation building to a climax as Baron-Gracie frenziedly concedes that she “couldn’t answer the questions she always asked”, painting a redolent picture of a tainted love.
On ‘Kiss Me Again’, Baron-Gracie appears to be rebounding, satisfied with “a temporary love exchange” and delivering one of her best vocal performances yet. The song begins with an 80s-style guitar riff, once again recalling the brooding yet somewhat joyous compositions of The Cure’s hits. ‘Miss America’ is perhaps the closest the album gets to the pop-punk influences Pale Waves have become known for, opening with a grungy guitar riff matched by fast-paced percussion, though the subsequent track ‘Hate To Hurt You’ proves this to be a brief intermission.
Musically, ‘Seeing Stars’ and ‘Imagination’ do little to shift the album’s direction, instead perpetuating the glittering sonic palette that can be heard throughout. Many albums would become tedious or sound monotonous because of this, but there’s something special about Smitten that keeps on captivating. Lyrically, ‘Imagination’ does hearken back to the days of Who Am I? and Unwanted: “I don’t wanna be stuck in reality” is the kind of angsty, adolescent line that could have easily been taken from either album, but this time around turbulence is swapped for a matured perspective on romance.
The final line of Smitten sees Baron-Gracie ask “Am I dreaming?”, and a dream is exactly what the album feels like. Pale Waves manage to summon images and paint pictures with words and sounds, conjuring romantic reveries summarised by closing track ‘Slow’.
Though the material here largely lacks exploration and experimentation, this may well be Pale Waves at their very best: the Manchester band have found a mid-point between the synth-led, female-fronted, The 1975 sonics of their debut and the emotionally-charged pop-punk of their more recent material, pulling it off stylishly and effectively. Shimmering guitar riffs, impressive percussion and hankering lyricism infuse the twelve tracks with feelings of euphoria, reflection and nostalgia, shaping Smitten into a heavily romantic, strikingly mature record.
