Is it just me, or are we living in an age where artists just aren’t topping themselves anymore? Taylor Swift’s “Lover.” Kanye West’s “Jesus is King.” Post Malone’s “Hollywood’s Bleeding.” All of these new releases from the supposed best-of-the-best artists have proved disappointing, all of them waving their white flags of musical surrender. Yet, out of the darkness emerges a beacon of hope, a brave warrior in this increasingly disappointing era of mainstream music – and it comes in the form of a 21-year-old Englishman.
Alex O’Connor, formally known as Rex Orange County, released “Pony,” his third album and first project under Sony record label this last Friday, Oct. 25. With his characteristic genre-blending sound featuring the likes of bedroom pop, indie rock, neo-soul, jazz and rap, O’Connor did what all other major artists have not been doing – he topped himself. It’s an ambitious task to follow up on his famous feature on Tyler, the Creator’s “Flower Boy” and his first two independently released projects, 2016’s “Bcos U Will Never B Free” and 2017’s “Apricot Princess.” However, the singer/songwriter constructed a new, brilliantly happy/sad 10-song album that further establishes him as king of the sad boys.
In contradiction to his previous two projects, “Pony” reveals O’Connor as happy. While the dominant thematic material on his last albums orbited around plain sadness, “Pony” showcases Rex Orange County as a buoyant man fresh out of therapy and all his bad relationships.
O’Connor has never been one to shy away from discussing mental health; as an active member of the charge of “sad boy” musicians like Frank Ocean and Omar Apollo, he ceaselessly ventures into a brave yet accepting new world. Tracks like “Always” produce emotionally vulnerable yet simple lyrics that discuss O’Connor’s realization and reflection of his mental brokenness in lyrics like, “It took a while to see that I was in need or help from somebody else/ But she keeps reminding me that I’m not the only one.” Though he discusses difficult subject material, energetic horn lines, bells, claps and a bouncy drum loop indicates that O’Connor has suffered but is now free.
Rex Orange County is an extremely valuable artist in this respect. Not only is he a male discussing mental health and insecurities, – which proves controversial to historical social norms of masculinity – but he makes the taboo topic approachable. He sounds like he’s merely having a conversation with his listener, as if the two are back in high school together smoking joints in a running car.
Perhaps the most powerful line on the entire album appears on “Pluto Projector.” In his signature raw and soft voice, O’Connor sings over a simple electric guitar riff, “The great protector/ Is that what I’m supposed to be?” In this line alone, he weaves together a great deal of his main themes: social norms of masculinity, self-reflection, existential crises. The song continues with O’Connor poetically declaring how grateful he is to be in the relationship with his longtime girlfriend, singing, “And it’s sublime with you, my friend/ This right here still feels like a honeymoon.” Later in the song, effectively emotional and gospel-like harmonies are introduced over simple instrumentation before a lush orchestral section. Finally, the band returns to a heart-wrenching, pitched down vocal outro of the beginning melody.
The album all falls under an I-was-in-the-dumps-but-since-I-have-you-and-worked-through-my-feelings-I’m-happy-now attitude, paired with refreshing instrumental choices. The thoughtful piano ballad “Every Way” is like a handwritten letter set to music; O’Connor explains how much he appreciates his lover, stating, “You’re more familiar to me, more and more each day/ I cry in front of you, and it’s very necessary, babe/ I will care about you, in every way I can.” This track is followed by “It Gets Better,” a triumphant declaration of “how far we’ve come” over a driving disco beat and string section bridge. On “Face to Face,” O’Connor harmonizes with himself over a video game-like piano. “Stressed Out” features a contrasting and calming electric keyboard and pitched up, layered vocals reminiscent of the iconic Frank Ocean track “Nikes.”
Rex Orange County is the manifestation of both carefree dancing by yourself in your bedroom and crying in public. He effortlessly crafts the musical and lyrical feelings of being sad and being happy, making them appear equally complex and simple. He writes a perfect blend of poetry and blatant statements, like when he sings that he “turned [his] shit ‘round” and “cut a bitch out” in the album’s opening song “10/10.”
In the same song, during the opening lines of the album, O’Connor sings, “I had a year that nearly sent me off the edge/ I feel like five I can’t pretend/ But if I get my shit together this year/ Maybe I’ll be a ten.” Who knows how O’Connor feels in this regard now, but at least he doesn’t have to worry about his newest album being any less than an absolute 10.
DU Students: Interested in seeing Rex Orange County live in Denver? He’s coming to the Fillmore Auditorium on Jan. 24 so make sure to get your tickets soon.
