ALBUM REVIEW: ‘Sling’ – Clairo
I listened to Sling for the first time yesterday morning on my state-sanctioned walk to my local dog park. I sat on a bench, watching a group of perfectly manicured dogs play-fighting for possession of a stick, their owners observing in their Lululemons. Rays of sunshine cut through the gentle, mid-winter wind. Amidst the claustrophobia of lockdown, Clairo’s sophomore album Sling is, at once, a burn and a salve.
Immunity, released in 2019, was a polished iteration of the lo-fi bedroom pop sound Claire Cottrill had gained notoriety for as a teenager, and Sling feels like the triumphant, providential next stage in her evolutionary process. The 12-song album offers a matured reflection on the heartbreak of Immunity, delivered through an expanded range of warm instrumental tones and nostalgic melodies. Full of nods to 70s greats such as Joni Mitchell, Carole King, and ABBA, Sling walks its listeners through the process of letting go of what wasn’t to be, and into a whole-hearted yearning for a future that one doesn’t quite believe will ever be. A step away from the existential, coming-of-age angst of Immunity, Sling is borne of a different anxiety wholesale.
Its opening track, ‘Bambi’, is as warm as the rest of it, outfitted with a jazzy walking bassline and smooth brass instrumentation. Cottrill’s signature breathy vocals weave a story of mustering the courage to move forward and out of a toxic relationship: “I told all my friends, they were glad to see”.
Driven by strings and gentle acoustic guitar, ‘Blouse’ is sonically reminiscent of Elliott Smith’s oeuvre and takes a thematic departure from the rest of the album. The song speaks to Cottrill’s common experience of objectification at the hands and eyes of male colleagues: “Why do I tell you how I feel when you’re just looking down the blouse?”. The repeated chorus of, “if touch could make them hear, then touch me now” speaks to the devaluation and dismissal of womens’ voices within the music industry and the wider professional world.
Co-produced by industry stalwart Jack Antonoff, Sling showcases the notable vocal advancement Cottrill has undergone since her debut album. Sling’s intricate, multi-tracked harmonies are primarily sung by Cottrill herself, with Lorde providing backing vocals on ‘Blouse’ and ‘Reaper’.
‘Joanie’, an instrumental track, ties Sling’s narrative together with its driving piano and warbling electric guitar accents. Named after the muse of the album, Cottrill’s rescue dog, the song explores a yearning for a settled, domestic life. The sentiment forms the emotional crux of the album and is echoed in tracks including ‘Zinnias’ and ‘Reaper’, undoubtedly triggered by time spent in lockdown. Clairo’s yearning is intertwined throughout the album with an anxiety stoked by unknown variables – doubt in her ability to live a domestic life, and her uncertainty about how to grasp such a life.
I believe there are many futures many of us wish to see. Whether they be kids, a white picket fence, and a rescue dog, or merely an end to the immutable transience of life amidst a global pandemic, Sling feels them all.
Sling is available to listen to on all good streaming platforms.