Cherry Glazerr – ‘I Don’t Want You Anymore’ album review: an ambitious yet clichéd exploration of love
Los Angeles-based noise-pop outfit Cherry Glazerr are back with their fourth album, I Don’t Want You Anymore, a bracingly honest exploration of the full emotional spectrum of love and longing. While the songs move from synth-based indie dance cuts to heavier, grunge-infused moments, lead singer and co-producer Clementine Creevy unites the sonic palette with her powerful and impassioned vocal performances.
I Don’t Want You Anymore sees Cherry Glazerr act on a wide variety of impulses, allowing folk influences to intersect with 1990s shoegaze and modern pop. While many of the tracks master this sense of symbiosis, allowing fans to indulge in a listening experience that feels equally indebted to bands from past decades and the present day, the lyrics hold the record back from becoming truly spectacular.
Creevy intended the album to possess a “losing your fucking shit” vibe, adding: “I wanted this album to be just heart and soul. Completely exposed”. While she does present her feelings with no holds barred, there is a lack of depth to many lines, instead skimming the surface of cliches. Thus, the desperation or anguish of thrashing guitars and Creevy’s dynamic voice are minimised by rather juvenile observations and articulations, making some of the songs fall flat.
For example, in ‘Bad Habit’, Creevy repeats an age-old line, “You are my bad habit”, and in ‘Soft Like A Flower’, she asserts, “Gave up my tricks/ I’ll be your dog.” Luckily, the rich instrumentation that accompanies these songs, from the former’s thick electronics to the latter’s brooding guitars, saves them from becoming entirely predictable and unoriginal.
Yet, among these uninspired lines, there are moments of lyrical greatness that tease the band’s full potential. ‘Ready For You’ is a standout moment, blending murky guitars with a dark pop chorus and a vocal delivery that borders on theatrical. Despite a few bland declarations like “I’m sick inside my twisted mind,” the song’s main statement, “I’m so embarrassed all the time/ Wish I could meet you with my eyes,” perfectly encapsulates the shame of really liking someone and the vulnerability one might experience in their presence.
In this respect, many of the album’s lyrics possess a particular urgency that will easily reach the listener. There are no incomprehensible metaphors at hand, and Creevy confesses precisely how she feels in an easily digestible and relatable way. Through vast layers of fuzzy guitars and ’80s synth-inspired dancefloor-friendly anthems, Creevy asserts her solidarity with those who feel intensely or those who give too much of themselves away to others, inviting us to dance in the chaos of our feelings.
There’s a particularly unsettling atmosphere executed stunningly on ‘Sugar’, with warping guitars and layered vocals giving the song an innate sense of mystery. Moreover, ‘Shattered’ melds bedroom-pop-esque synths with reverberating guitars that create a foggy landscape as Creevy despairs, “If only I knew better.”
I Don’t Want You Anymore is an admirably vulnerable exploration of the toxicity of love, yet one that needs to delve a little deeper beneath the surface. Still, the album still has its stellar moments, with Creevy giving some of her best vocal performances to date.
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