The bop, distilled and magnified.
People often call pop records “deceptively simple,” like there’s some underlying need for albums like Remi Wolf’s new record, Juno to secretly hold deep philosophical wisdom to justify their existence. I think I’d rather call Juno “refreshingly” simple instead.
Seriously, everything great about this record can be pretty much gleaned on a first listen. These songs are creative, well-written, entertaining, and above all sticky. This is the kind of music you could show to your mom, were it not for the occasional outsized horniness in the lyrics. Those lyrics are, for the most part, almost for pure decoration and texture; they’re stream of consciousness and goofy, with often only the choruses promising anything like a coherent narrative. That is not a knock by any means – the lyrical cut-and-paste more than suits the tone set by the sound.
Juno almost feels like a reaction against the hyperpop movement that’s been blowing up in the underground the last few years. Videos and single covers make use of the visual aesthetics of that scene: VHS distortion, ironically-bad 3D graphics, copious low-res JPEG abuse, and eye-searing color. But the sound of the music is classic, rooted in funk, soul, disco, and the power of Wolf’s voice. She’s not afraid to belt or harmonize, like on the chucking highlight “wyd,” even as she’s saying the most bonkers lines imaginable, but she’s also not afraid to stretch her voice either. Her shrill shouts (“Guerilla, Guerilla!”) and silly raps (the entire opening verse of “Liquor Store,” which absolutely cannot be printed in this publication) bump right up against sparkling hooks like the ones on “Volkiano” and “Street You Live On.” That’s best displayed on the swaying, serial-killing “Sexy Villain,” may be the best song here, whose chorus literally alternates between a gorgeously-sung hook and a rapped passage where Wolf asserts that she will “cheat on Chester, f**k with Fritos.”
There’s a lot about this album to gush about. The guitar work is distinctive and often surprisingly noisy for the type of pure ear-candy songs they’re making here, Wolf’s one-liner game is unmatched, and her ability to use compression to her advantage is impressive. She does things that would be irritating in anybody else’s hands (dolphin sound effects, lines about having “boobies on her booty,” a genuinely awful southern accent at one point) and turns them endearing through sheer force of personality. What the writing lacks in specificity, it more than makes up for in character. Some other highlights I haven’t mentioned yet are the hard-hitting “Sally” and “Grumpy Old Man,” an exercise in pure nonsense fun.
Still, there’s a couple misses in the tracklist. The otherwise-bombastic “Quiet On Set” is derailed by a bizarre, Melanie Martinez-esque ramble from the perspective of an abducted child at the end. It goes on for way too long and isn’t especially flattering. There’s also the weird girl-group misfire of “Buttermilk” that doesn’t get off the ground due to some uncharacteristic repetitiveness.
Putting those duds aside, though, Wolf has turned in the best pop debut of the year. The staying power and catchiness of these songs seriously can’t be overstated, I have been humming “Liquor Store” under my breath since July when it dropped – it’s the last days of October as I write this. If there’s one thing I wish for her next record, I’d love to see how she tackles emotions besides outlandish exuberance. If she could apply her same cartoonish writing filter to some more emotionally developed tracks, we could have a pop classic on our hands. In any case, Juno is a hell of a left hook to start a career with, and a pure, uncomplicated good time.
