Remi Wolf defies genre in debut album
Whether you’re a decorated music critic or car radio listener, the last decade of chart toppers has brought one universally agreed upon sentiment: What we once knew as “pop music” is dead. In an ever-changing world — both musically and politically — the days of blindly optimistic, bubblegum-catchy Katy Perry and Carly Rae Jepsen earworms feel like distant memories from our current chart toppers. The world has simply evolved. In a time where any track has potential to go viral, pop music must evolve with the times to stay alive.
It’s during these fluctuations where rising stars such as Remi Wolf are utterly essential. Free-flowing, genreless and inexplicably catchy, sonic innovators such as Wolf have risen from the ashes of their predecessors to create a new sound that completely embodies the new generation. Wolf’s debut album, “Juno,” epitomizes this reckoning: Colorful, explosive and mind-blowingly creative.
“Juno” kicks off with the funky, crunchy synth-heavy “Liquor Store,” which was released earlier this year as the album’s debut single. Much like Wolf’s previous discography, it’s immediately evident the USC Thornton School of Music alumna boasts a unique ability to work cross-functionally with genres to create distinctive sonic aesthetics. The edgy funk synths, multilayered sing-yelling and hints of ‘90s hip hop drum beats create an anthem that makes you feel like a model strutting down the street on their off-day.
Wolf’s unpredictability throughout her album stuns, delights and switches up on audiences quickly and deviously. In tracks like “Guerrilla,” she’ll slow down momentarily for a beat breakdown before exploding into one more refrain about the “East side guys” who “bring the thunder.” In “Grumpy Old Man,” she switches her voice from a cooled, relaxed speak-singing to a Lana Del Rey-esque dramatic tone to a full-on country accent. Listeners will also delight in songs such as “Volkiano,” where she’ll momentarily break for a plucking-strings solo before she launches into a darkly synthesized, Weeknd-esque bridge where she begs for an ex to get out of her head.
Where Wolf shines is in her ability to capture the voice of Gen-Z: lyrically tackling serious issues, such as mental health, while creating upbeat, cool art that allows the pain to be viewed through the lens of her lighthearted, nihilistic sense of humor.
Songs like “Anthony Kiedis” discuss how “Everything’s shut down / and I don’t have friends anymore” and “I don’t have feelings.” However, the song itself feels like it’s poking fun at the direness of her situation, as it’s titled after the lead singer of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and played a guillotine chopping sound effect after a lyric referencing her rising fame feeling like the French death machine.
“Front Tooth” touches upon similar lyrical themes, as she talks about how fame doesn’t “feel like it’s supposed to,” often feeling instead like “a Conor McGregor fight / Kicking out [her] front tooth.” It’s funny, sad and innovatively executed.
Another notable track was “Quiet On Set,” a single released ahead of the album debut. This song is simply Wolf in three minutes: It’s colorful, hilarious, wild and brimming with personality. The track’s thematic content is full of delectably catchy ad-libs and hilarious lyrics such as “Should I Postmates Chuck-E-Cheese? / Wait, ain’t no Chuck-E-Cheese in Los Feliz!”. This is Wolf in a nutshell, and she’s the effing moment.
Sonically, it’s no secret Wolf has struck genius in her ability to both blend and bend genres. Her album is full of simple but effective creative choices: thematically layering crunchy guitar synths, lining up the instrumental beat of “Buttermilk” perfectly with her rhythmic vocal chanting and even putting cartoon-character sound effects such as antique digital “boings” and “clicks” in “Guerrilla.” While some may criticize instrumental repetitiveness, others could just as validly argue these choices create a certain cohesion throughout the body of work.
Vocally, she has mastered a tried-and-true technique for pop and R&B music: Earworm vocables. “Anthony Kiedis,” for example, vocally juxtaposes old-school R&B “oo-wee-oo” themes with early 2010s “na-na-na’s” to create a sound that simultaneously feels eerily familiar yet innovative in its combination. “Sexy Villain” shares a similar theme, as she sings “Tip tip tippy toe’s” throughout sonic interludes to create a chiming ring to the deep synths. There remains a quintessential child-like wonder and playfulness in Wolf’s creative style, and it pays off.
This is not to say that “Juno” doesn’t share celebratory vulnerable moments. “Sally,” the album’s 10th track, feels like a refreshing blast of celestial light. With a country-esque steel guitar intro, Wolf’s vocals effortlessly and entrancingly above the emotional instrumentals. Lyrically, she confesses to writing songs about a muse (presumably Sally) who’s “Hot like Arizona / Drinking mad Corona.”
Meanwhile, “Volkiano” and “Buzz Me In” boast of the most poignant, heart-wrenching lyrics in the whole album. Wolf sings, “And I apologize if I take it too far / But I get bored wearing all of these scars” and “My tears taste like you / Taste just like salt and wine,” respectively. Underneath Wolf’s mischief lingers truth about the human experience — despair, heartbreak and loneliness as a young person growing up in troubling times.
Put simply, Wolf is a mad scientist. But the successful results of her experiments are absolutely by no mistake. In her debut album, the 25-year-old music enchantress was able to take the fundamentals of her pop, R&B and hip-hop predecessors, throw it into a magical blender with unicorn vomit-sparkles, pandemic depression and sick fuzzy bucket hats and spit out a perfect formula for whimsical, joyful, heartbreaking and vibrant music.
Remi Wolf is a trailblazer in the pop music world who’s creating her personal unique genre in her own right. If it wasn’t already clear, the release of “Juno” only confirms: Her unstoppable meteoric rise to stardom has only begun.