This album continues along the same thread, but with a few differences. The arrangements are still sparse, and focused on simple acoustics to pair with Kat's subdued vocal performances. She doesn't draw attention to her voice, keeping the focus on the stories the lyrics are telling. They are portraits of moments when we reach emotional crossroads, drawing the chalk outlines on the ground so we can remember the exact position things were in when they began to fall apart. The opening track leans heavily into this, describing the love of the moment as a "future broken heart". It's the sort of cynical message pop music doesn't spend much time with, because we've been trained to expect happy endings even when they don't fit the story.
That's not what life is, and even if there is a happy ending, the path to get there is not a road paved in gold. Stories where nothing bad happens along the way aren't interesting, and if anything they make us hate the people who have that kind of luck. Call it jealousy if you want to, but it's a natural reaction.
Kat's songs talk about looking through the collection of stuff that reminds you of someone, only to realize you've outgrown who they are. And yet, she describes the feeling of them becoming just "another person" imagined as a one-sided affair, where she will avoid any mention or reminder far longer, until the day comes when she can barely remember their phone number anymore. Living in the "limbo" between the future you imaged and the future you will inherit can break both our backs and spirits if we aren't careful.
Kat's performances carry the somber sadness of these realizations, letting her music feel intimate and painful. It's a sound that comes without many silver linings, as holding onto what we consider precious doesn't always leave much that hasn't slipped through our fingers. When the songs utilize Kat's harmonies, there's a beautiful and ethereal quality that sounds like the velvet lining to the coffin we are burying our dreams in.
Now, for all of that, the album's bend to modernity leaves it a bit short of the mark. These thirteen songs come in at thirty-eight minutes, which doesn't give the songs enough time to always build the emotion they are trying to pay off. The sketches of the moments are incomplete, with the structures barely hitting two verses and choruses. The big emotional payoffs are missing, which does fit the theme and the tone, but without rousing us in the way that connects two hearts. A song like "Idiot Proof" isn't even two minutes long, which isn't enough time to invest me in that moment in time.
The best songs are the ones that inject a bit more 'energy' into the album, where the harmonies are a bit thicker, where the hazy atmosphere has a bit more depth to it. Those songs are the ones that are broken, sad, and damn beautiful. "Never See Me" is a prime example of that, and it's a reminder of those songs that attracted me to Kat's music in the first place. Maybe an entire album mining that territory would have been too much of the same thing, but the quieter and slower moments ask for a level of intimacy to love them that aren't easy for an artist and audience to have, especially without a long history between them.
Ultimately, the album leaves me in the same position those original singles did. I love the sound Kat has created for herself, but the experience still feels a bit incomplete, as if I still want something a bit 'more'. The sadness of Kat's songs resonates, but I'm tired of being tired, I'm sad about being sad... so I suppose an album that doesn't give much reason or incentive for my mood to shift isn't the easiest lift at the moment. Maybe someday, but not today.
It's satisfying to have a more full and rich experience with Kat's music. I'm sure in time I might be able to say something a bit more affectionate, but this is where I am right now. This album is lovely, but not for everyone or every mood.