Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish [Darkroom/Interscope]
Happier Than Ever feels, in some ways, like a pretty dramatic shift from WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO? Take the album covers, for instance. Eilish's debut is a dark, horror-inspired, low lit cover with no text, while her sophomore is brightly lit, photographed much closer, and displays the album title in a classic script font. If WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO? is a horror movie, Happier Than Ever is Old Hollywood. There are pros and cons to the newer, glossier packaging of Happier Than Ever. The Guardian's Alexis Petridis wrote in his review:
“WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO? was an album that turned universal teenage traumas – romance, hedonism, friendship groups – into knowingly lurid horror-comic fantasies, in which tongues were stapled, friends buried, hearses slept in and marble walls spattered with blood. That playfulness is less evident on its successor.”
Eilish's sophomore albums sees her abandon some of that visceral and effective imagery in favor of a more literal interpretation of her life. Perhaps increased fame comes with a higher level of disinterest in what isn't real, but I think it does her somewhat of a disservice. Eilish thrives in describing the dark otherworldly moments of life. Even her less fantastical songs (like early hit “my boy”) have strong imagery and metaphors embroiled in the lyrics without sacrificing entertainment or danceability. (“My boy loves his friends like I love my split ends/And by that I mean he cuts them off.”) Matthew Kent of Line of Best Fit ultimately sums up my thoughts on this portion of the album quite nicely.
“On Happier Than Ever the tempo never quite reaches fever pitch; instead, Eilish is content with the tranquillity of tried and tested methods - tentatively pushing boundaries, rather than cranking the distortion up to 10. There are of course moments where Eilish pulls it out of the bag, but where WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO? felt entirely singular, Happier Than Ever doesn’t feel nearly as intimately unique."
Of course, there are also moments on this album where Eilish's maturity and worldly experience, both in song and production, come through. She shines on the more upbeat songs on the album like “Oxytocin” and “Overheated.” She naturally moves into a sexier role as she has gotten older that doesn't feel forced or manufactured like other younger stars sometimes do. Finneas O'Connell, Eilish's bother, co-writer, and producer, also created an effortlessly glossy production and an easy flow throughout all of Happier Than Ever. Matthew Kent compared O'Connell's work on “Oxytocin” to Timbaland with Eilish's vocals being compared to Nelly Furtado, and as a believer that those two artists created some of the best club hits of the 2000's, I have to agree here. This album required a very different sonic package than Eilish's debut, and Finneas pulled it off with his signature, somewhat minimalist flair.
I have to laud the song “Happier Than Ever.” The song starts slow and pretty, seemingly about feeling "better off without them" but changes tunes about 1:45 in and turns into Eilish allowing herself to reflect and rage on a past relationship. (Likely about her relationship with Q, who was seen in her documentary, The World's A Little Blurry.) The moment Eilish screams along with herself “You made me hate this city,” the song becomes an enraged, energetic breakup song. It's one of Eilish and O'Connell's best writing ventures, and perhaps Eilish's best vocal performance yet. Something about the transition from “Happier Than Ever” to the tragedy of “Male Fantasy” feels like one of the most honest transitions in her career so far. It doesn't feel like it should work, but it absolutely does.
Happier Than Ever is a breakup record in a less traditional sense. Breaking up with a significant other, with expectations, with a past version of yourself that it's killing you to uphold. Eilish effectively gets all these ideas across, but she also gets across a lot of the feelings that come with heartbreak. Rage, sadness, a (delightfully) inflated ego and confidence, and a reevaluation of the past abound on Eilish's sophomore record. Ultimately, I did miss some of the “bad guy” and “all the good girls go to hell” esque sensibilities on this record, but I also feel like Eilish is getting more comfortable playing with style and genre, incorporating more R&B, Bossa nova, rock, and singer-songwriter moments. In Eilish's next album, if she fuses some of the production elements and the flow of Happier Than Ever with the imagery and songwriting of WWAFAWDWG? she'll have (another) instant classic on her hands.