For the first couple years of her career, Halsey remained an underground icon. Her 2015 debut, Badlands, was glistening, crunchy, and over-processed pop that proved that Halsey was a grand act and her music was built around personas and fiction. And like a more alternative rock version of Lana del Rey, Halsey’s music built an American mythology of her own, focused on cars and Roman holidays and gasoline. Halsey was only twenty at her first debut, and while many music critics initially wrote off Badlands as a millennial fad, the album remained on Billboard for years, expanding Halsey’s base of young fans. Her 2017 follow-up, hopless fountain kingdom, showed critics and fans alike that Halsey had matured in her songwriting ability and was capable of drawing in A-list collaborators.
Manic, which debuted on January 17th, was intentionally hyped up by Halsey and her PR teams for months before its release. Halsey slowly trickled a handful of singles, including 2018’s “Graveyard,” which was successful enough to finally make Halsey a household name. “Clementine” showed that Halsey was capable of stripping down her persona and singing a straightforward version of her truth with sparse piano and a nursey-rhyme style chorus. “Graveyard” proved more intense, and sounds more like Badlands than any other single on Manic.
Image via. Halsey’s Instagram
Considering Manic‘s hype cycle, relentless press tour, and promotion as Halsey’s most honest and intense album yet, I’m still not sure how Manic seemed to fall flat for me. The album begins with “Ashley,” which is our introduction to Halsey’s journey of introspection and is marked with a soft growl and synths that sound as if they were sampled from Minecraft (which I personally love). “Ashley,” the album’s manifesto, ends with an excerpt from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind where Kate Winslet states, “too many guys think that I’m a concept, or I complete them, or I’m gonna make them alive. But I’m just a fucked up girl looking for my own piece of mind. Don’t assign me yours.” With “Ashley,” Halsey makes a declarative statement that this album is about herself, not her invented personas, and not about her past relationships, but rather how she’s healing from them.
“Ashley” is followed by the singles “Clementine” and “Graveyard,” which could have been a strong start, but the lack of melody in the first three tracks makes them feel as if they’re beginning to drag. And as someone who’s been a Halsey fan for five years at this point, the production value of these tracks isn’t unique enough to make me feel incredibly invested in them. The glittering music videos, which depict an interpretive dance about mania in an aquarium and two girls in love at an amusement part, are frankly the reasons that I’ve grown to love these songs. But I’m not sure if production value can make up for the seeming directionness of Manic’s beginning melodies. Many critics have written about how American music has become less melodic over a series of decades, and Manic unfortunately fits that standard. It’s music that can be half-sung by anyone, for better or worse.
The fourth track, “You should be sad,” is a blend of alternative and country that’s been one of the most positively received songs on the album. Its energy and its genre bending makes it noteworthy, and it leads into “Forever… (is a long time)” and “Dominic’s Interlude,” which leads into a more dynamic section of the album where its promise starts to show. But “I HATE EVERYONE” and “3am” bring it back into the unmelodic monotony. “Without Me” remains the centerpiece of the album, and whether the fact that it couldn’t be eclipsed by any other song on the album is either a testament to its staying power or to the underwhelmingness of the rest of the album. If Manic is supposed to have great highs and lows, it fails in that it lacks the highs necessary to achieve the feat it sought out to accomplish.
At least at first. For me, the closest Manic comes to its testament is through the transition from the soft and acoustic “Finally // beautiful stranger” and “Alanis’ Interlude.” “Finally // beautiful stranger” sounds like the kind of hit you’d hear as a hipster wedding song, but you’d still weep when it starts to play. “Killing Boys” reminds me of a Taylor Swift song but with maudlin lyrics and thumping drums. “Suga’s Interlude” resembles both lo-fi and K-pop, and sounds like a soft and lovely summer night. You can imagine a soft breeze and fireflies buzzing around in the middle of June. This song arch from “Finally…” to “Suga’s Interlude,” for me, fulfills Manic’s promise. I just wish the whole album flowed this well and took this many risks.
Manic ends thoughtfully and introspectively. “929” tells the story of Halsey’s birth on 9:29am on 9/29, and follows her disillusionment with fame with a soft, bouncing, processed guitar. The conclusion of Manic is the album’s most beautiful, meditative moment. At the end of the day, Manic is far from a disappointment. At its beginning, it suffers from a lack of melody and monotonous speak-singing, but it rounds out with Halsey’s thoughtful lyrics and meditative moments.
Final Verdict: Manic is definitely a departure from Halsey’s earlier catalogue in ways both good and bad. But thankfully, Halsey’s shed her persona and has finally solidified her position as a pop star by being loyal to her own voice. The last half of the album is some of the best pop I’ve heard in years.
Top Tracks: “Ashley,” “Finally // beautiful stranger,” “Alanis’ Interlude,” “Killing Boys,” and “929.”