A mainstream breakout can be a double-edged sword for an artist like Lizzo. For someone whose career exploded with such force and star power, the quickest recipe for continued success is to keep moving toward what’s working.
For Lizzo, that was Cuz I Love You, a record filled with loud and proud, poppy self-empowerment anthems and mid-tempo ballads that were brimming with oversinging. “Woke up feelin’ like I might just run for President” gets old fast when it’s sandwiched with “I’m my own soulmate, I’m never lonely.” There are only so many ways to let your fans know that you’re the baddest bitch in the room.
Special, Lizzo’s fourth studio album, which was released Friday, may not beat the bad-bitch accusations. But it does tighten her now-cemented artistic ethos. It’s her most consistent and exciting project in the last six years—and finally dares to do something (slightly) different than just be our musical therapist and life coach.
Lead single “About Damn Time,” it turns out, was a proper signifier of the album’s throwback sound. Out with the crunchy horns and computerized handclaps, in with funky bass guitars and bright ’80s synths.
Perhaps the most accessible of these new tracks is “2 Be Loved (Am I Ready?),” a poppy introspection that would fit right at home in a John Hughes montage. (I swear it’s way less obnoxious than that sounds.) Lizzo looks in the mirror a few months after a breakup, asking her reflection if she’s prepared to dip her toe back into the dating pool. “Am I ready? (What you talkin’ about)/Am I ready? (You gon’ figure it out!),” she duets with her subconscious. Throw in a key change in the song’s last minute and your windows will be rolling themselves down on your next car ride.
The title track of Special self-examines in more direct terms. “Woke up this morning to somebody in a video talking about something I posted in a video/If it wasn’t me would you even get offended, or is it just because I’m Black and heavy?” It’s a valid question, the answer to which has more often been “yes” than “no,” given the faceless, racist, and fatphobic scourge that trolls Twitter. These questions make for interesting ruminations on Lizzo’s album when they’re given space to be considered with time and thought, even if “Special” quickly flattens into another conventional self-love platitude: “In case nobody told you today, you’re special.”
It’d become grating if the song didn’t sound so damn good. It slinks with an undeniably delicious R&B groove, with Lizzo’s silky, soulful vocals tying the track together in one perfect Mary J. Blige knee-high boot-shaped bow. “Special” would fit right at home on the Queen of Hip-Hop Soul’s underrated 2007 record Growing Pains. In fact, you can draw a clear through-line between that album’s biggest hit, “Just Fine,” all the way up to Lizzo’s current career.
“Everybody’s Gay,” the song that I had the highest expectations (and worst fears) for based on the title alone, does not disappoint. What starts as a slow-burning, electro-disco funkfest unfolds into a dizzy dance-floor odyssey. “Dance the night away, keep your pussy poppin’, pop those percolates/Everybody’s gay, it’s a happy place in here, baby you’re safe,” Lizzo croons while flitting trumpets tap dance over her words. Just when the song sounds like it’s about to end, a sick guitar bass line flips into its irresistible bridge.
It’s one of Special’s grandest high points, accomplishing a lofty task. Artists designating their own songs as gay anthems before queer people even get ahold of them is an almost surefire way to embarrass yourself. In most cases, they are chosen, not made. But the song’s infectious melodies are planted so firmly in the underground genres popularized in the Black, queer club scene in the ’70s and ’80s that you’d be hard-pressed to say anything about the song feels false.
On the flip side of that coin is “Birthday Girl,” which feels tailor-made to score every La Marca Prosecco-fueled, Instax camera flash-filled twentysomething’s birthday bash from now until the day H&M sells its last pair of faux leather leggings. It’s utterly predictable, down to its nearly robotic, emotionless chorus. It’s hard not to imagine Lizzo singing, “Is it your birthday, girl? ‘Cause you lookin’ like a present” at some teenager’s Bat Mitzvah if she ever falls on hard times. This is the kind of soulless cringe that Lizzo doesn’t need to pander to.
Lizzo performs during NBC's Today show Citi Concert Series at Rockefeller Center.
Debra L RothenbergThe album’s mid-tempo tracks and ballads are far more successful, actually mining some of Lizzo’s personal life instead of staying laser-focused on the—apparently—very needy and insecure listener she so often writes for. “Naked” is a stunning ballad, just begging to be crooned at a smoky piano bar. “Break Up Twice” features slick guitars and a distinct Amy Winehouse flavor, unsurprising given the song features a writing credit from Winehouse’s frequent collaborator, Mark Ronson. And “I Love You Bitch” is a sweet and funny profession of affection, with its title borrowed from an infamous viral Vine.
Lyrically, Special may not feel as directly pulled from a 40-year-old mom’s Pinterest board as some songs on Cuz I Love You did, but we don’t need Lizzo to be saying, “I live inside his head and pay no rent,” as she does on “The Sign,” an otherwise incredibly catchy opening track. (Unfortunately, it’s not a cover of the Ace of Bass classic—where’s that bold creative decision?!). She should be coining phrases and starting trends, not tacking idioms onto her songs that ran their course on Twitter over a year ago.
Lizzo’s constant desire to remain a voice for everyday underdogs has been tarnishing the quality of her music since the one-two punch breakthrough of “Truth Hurts” and “Good as Hell” convinced her and her team that the world needed a million more self-empowerment anthems, all essentially saying the same thing. And while the messaging is turned down to a simmer on Special, one has to wonder what it will take to get a Lizzo record without a bunch of songs about jumping out of bed to girlboss the hell out of the day.
Sometimes things don’t have to be so picture-perfect, and broader experimentation often leads to sizable rewards. “About Damn Time” is such a gratifying listen because it’s Lizzo rapidly switching hats. She’s rapping, she’s singing, she’s grabbing her flute to remind everyone that her classical prowess isn’t just a gimmick—and she’s still got plenty of personality to spare.
But Lizzo’s hesitation to really experiment ultimately works in her favor on Special. This time around, her sound is more narrow, a perfectly concise amalgamation of ’70s and ’80s disco, funk, and soul. Its influences are apparent, but none of it feels like a cheap copy. In fact, Special is a truer version of Lizzo than we’ve seen for a few years, and that includes the album’s occasional moments of cringe, too.
In Lizzo’s world, those parts of herself are inextricable from the art. Why rein yourself in when you can throw it all to the wall at the party and see who’s still standing long after midnight? That’s when the fun begins, anyway.
