There are worlds of music out there you can happily avoid. Be none the wiser to the next flavour of pop music. Those who are always online will have stumbled upon Madison Beer the same way they had Benson Boone backflip into their lives. What was once the flavour of the month is now barely a week, with Locket already receding from the mind. It’s back off in the distance, a shot at personable pop without the personality. That’s no comment on Beer herself, just the material she has been handed for Locket, her third studio album, which is more concerned with being the next chart topper than a memorable musician. Playing the typecast role of pop instigator this week is Beer, her work is no doubt enjoyable for those whose listening revolves mainly around what’s in the charts. It’ll do nicely to pass the time. For those wanting more sustenance to the work they follow along with, Locket will be a real disappointment.
Beer plays up the misinformed understanding that pop music must be light and breezy. Historically, the most memorable pop music still has a fundamental hook, a drive that means it stands out in the years and decades to follow its release. An inoffensive half hour is what Locket provides, though there are no heroics to be found in that. Intent on sounding ethereal without the wispy or wonderful sentimentality that’s so often associated with such a mood, Locket is quite light on honesty. Even with the intention from Beer to be honest with the audience, there are just moments which don’t sit right. Not because of what a listener can or can’t infer, but because they sound like actions carried out for the sake of something to write about, not because anyone could want to do so. Countering that, though, is an instrumental tempo shift which comes out of the blue. Locket Theme into Yes Baby may feel like this uncomfortably dull, performative experience of feeling the weight of memory with a physical indicator, but the transition into likeable club beats is impressive.
A shame, then, that it’s not backed by any deeper feeling or meaning. Repetitive but relatively strong instrumental sense is what Beer offers. She plays up what Charli XCX perfected with Brat, a desire to fight against the softer image with a harsh, cutting flow. It’s downhill from here, though. Plain sailing songs like Angel Wings are limited in their scope because what they detail is what so many have found real depth and honesty in discussing elsewhere. Locket dare not touch the nuance or detail of life-affirming situations. Instead, it works in the shadows of broad experience, occasionally throwing in a learned tone from pop music’s past. Ultimately, it relies on the piano-clad, acoustic guitar chokehold. It works well enough, too, when those softer electronic additions are made, as they are on Bad Enough. It’s plain love lost music with little in the way of real heart.
But that’s more the case for pop music than it is for Locket. Beer is too keen to fit in and sacrifices much of the personality that should be inherent to songs informed by life. Bad Enough sounds nice, but the lyrical tone features such a sharp decline. Repetitive vocal layering on Healthy Habit highlights exactly what Beer is aiming for with Locket. Make it loud enough instrumentally, play around with the structure of these songs, for the details are all the same. It sounds as though we’re nearing the end of what is possible with pop music when Beer and her peers, be it Lewis Capaldi or James Arthur, inflict their sappy reflections on the genre. There are innovations to be heard elsewhere, but Locket, for all the sporadic instrumental interest, is far from great pop listening.
