Before listening to Remi Wolf’s newest album “Mud,” released Oct. 9, with its cover art displaying the singer covered in mud, I immediately knew this album would take a grittier tone than the signer’s pervious work. While this inference was right, this project marks itself as my least favorite Wolf album for its cringey lyrics, and the insincere, southern-inspired persona she adopts.
After becoming a fan of Wolf’s music after listening to her single “Liz” in 2021, I have often felt that Wolf is one of those artists that is often overlooked. Ever since her 2020 EP, “I’m Allergic To Dogs!,” she has upheld a charming funk-pop aesthetic with quirky visuals, yet she hasn’t ever reached mass appeal, potentially due to her divergence from traditional pop.
After the more mature album “Big Ideas,” which I felt perfectly blended the eccentricity of her first album “Juno” with deeper self-reflection, “Mud” takes a step in the left field from the singer’s colorful, checkered pattern fashion. This album strips back much of the instrumentation I enjoyed previously, instead relying more on live, continuous takes and productions less distinctly synth.
My least favorite track, “Jamie,” felt like a Hobo Johnson song, which is certainly not a compliment. Throughout each verse, Wolf sings about a figure named Jamie like she is attempting slam poetry. The singer starts the song painting a picture of where she and her lover had a pleasant moment, as they built a bouquet together out of wildflowers.
However, sweet moments like this are later interrupted by verses like, “It always made me feel so tingly down there,” which after first listen, felt out of nowhere.
What also stood out to me was the singer’s use of the gen-Z slang, “type shit” as an ad-lib in the second verse, which made the song lose all its emotional gravity. Even if the lyric was supposed to represent the romance’s recent end, a song about metaphorically killing your partner seems like it should be more serious.
That isn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy any of the album’s 11 tracks. “Champagne” is an explosive song that is lyrically strong, depicting a complicated relationship. Wolf finds herself stuck in an endless cycle of wanting to feel loved by her partner, expertly using the comparing her partner carelessly consuming her love before abandoning the relationship like cheap champagne.
I enjoyed how Wolf encapsulates how vulnerable and ugly one can feel when being emotionally ignored by a partner.
On a sonic level, the song’s chorus is mature and groovy as the artist sings, “I'm always waiting here for someone to leave me in the pouring rain / I'm always waiting here for someone to choke me down like cheap champagne.” The pre-chorus is even better, as her ad-libs perfectly combine with the main vocals to create a snappy and declarative vocal segment.
While songs like these are sprinkled throughout, Wolf’s shift toward acting as a gritty Southern woman, despite having grown up in California, feels like a desperate attempt to create a new era for herself.
For example, in “Covered in Mud,” the singer elicits images of trucker bars, Louisiana and cheap red wine as if they are her own lived experiences. Wolf even uses a Southern accent throughout the song, despite not doing so in any of her previous tracks.
This all feels like an attempt to understand Southern life from someone who has never actually lived there. And because of this inauthenticity and her often gimmicky lyrics, her attempt to showcase her struggles with alcohol addiction and recovery, as well as these past relationship issues, doesn’t stand out.
I recommend tracks like “Bottle,” “Moon So High” and “I Won’t Cry” for their solid structure and catchiness, perfect for any late summer night. But I can’t say the other seven tracks are worth an initial listen or an add to your playlist.
