thank u, next
Halfway through her latest album, thank u, next, Ariana Grande suggests, “How ‘bout we take a little bit of time away?” It’s the exact opposite of what the pop sensation has done in the public eye since releasing her Grammy-winning fourth album, sweetener, just six months ago. Whereas sweetener found its strength in optimism following the horrific bombing at Grande’s 2017 Manchester concert, thank u, next accepts the pain, revels in the singer’s emotional wreckage, and lays it all bare. Since the tragic death of ex-boyfriend Mac Miller and the subsequent dissolution of her engagement to Pete Davidson in 2018, Grande has gained back control of her narrative in the recording studio, reflecting on romance and on her personal trials and tribulations to create a painfully honest album that celebrates emotional growth rather than that which wallows in post-relationship blues. Thank u, next ultimately acts as a self-care guide, relaying a consistent theme of pushing through the pain in an authentic, personal statement.
Produced in just under two weeks, the album demonstrates Grande’s comfort in toying with new styles and approaches — setting thumping trap beats and ringtone synths against orchestral strings, songs blend seamlessly between electropop, contemporary R&B, 90’s hip-hop, and smooth trap. Amidst subdued melodies, Grande orchestrates the album, treating vocals like percussion by surging through multi-octave vocal runs and spoken triplets, and punctuating choruses with low-pitched ‘yuhs.’ Intimate, honest, fun, and witty, thank u, next ricochets between moods while exploring Grande’s reflections upon her own complicated love life. Structured like a real relationship, the album progresses from the yearning, love-drunk ballad, “imagine,” to the encroaching anxiety and dependency issues in “needy,” and eventually to the post-breakup acceptance of self-love over spite in the album’s hit titular track.
Utilizing dreamy waltz time and heavenly whistle tones atop light production, “imagine” wistfully longs for mundane relationship goals in an alternate reality: “Stayin’ up all night, order me pad thai.” The minimalist “needy” chimes in with spacey keyboard tones and unfolds like a self-aware, confessional, one-way text conversation: “Sorry if I’m up and down a lot. Sorry that I think I’m not enough. And sorry if I say sorry way too much.” With “needy,” Grande openly encourages women to own their feelings, even the uncomfortable ones. Yet moments later, she demands space in the catchy “NASA,” an interstellar metaphor for self-discovery twisted in the punny concept of firmly asking a lover for a night apart, because Grande needs to “explore” her own “space.” In singing “I’ma need space. You don’t wanna leave me, but I’m tryna self-discover,” she humorously alludes to the importance of emotional independence in relationships.
Contrasting the opening tracks’ mellow tones, the funky reggae-infused “bloodline” continues the singer’s exploratory journey in finding someone to “have a good time” with — no strings attached, of course. Conjuring dancehall, horns, and a pulsing bass backed by trumpets, “bloodline” playfully informs a fling between brassy breaks that he’s just not mating material. Both “imagine” and “bloodline” ruminate on the difficulty in finding the right relationship for different periods in life, swinging from idealized love to casual flings. With R&B throwback “fake smile,” Grande tackles critics head-on, cheekily sampling Wendy Rene’s 1964 single “After Laughter (Comes Tears)” to open up about her struggles with social anxiety when enduring hardship in the public eye: “I can’t fake another smile. I can’t fake like I’m alright.” With these lyrics, she candidly embraces her emotional breakdown instead of fighting it.
The singer’s candor reaches its greatest heights in the album’s emotional centerpiece — the chilling, gut-wrenching, and apologetic orchestral ballad, “ghostin’” that appears to address the guilt she felt for mourning Miller while engaged to Davidson. Over gently encroaching violins, watery synths, and soft, ethereal harmonies alongside layered vocals, Grande’s lyrics paint a devastating scene about love, death, grief, and recovery: “I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again / Over him.” Using just one simple underlying melody cushioned by swelling classical strings, Grande tugs at multiple heartstrings as listeners not only hear her pain, but feel it as well.
Her most cohesive and introspective effort to date, thank u, next allows listeners a peek into Grande’s personal diary. In the album’s twelve songs, Grande cathartically lays her vulnerabilities bare with minimal adornment in production and unabashed sincerity in lyricism. Though inspired by romantic connections, the album’s songs are actually self-affirmations, turning a critical eye on the artist herself. It’s sad, it’s sassy, it’s messy, but more importantly, it’s real and empowering.
