ALBUM REVIEW: Pale Waves – ‘Smitten’

In hindsight, it’s not that shocking that Pale Waves haven’t stuck with the pop-punk of Unwanted. Just look at the scene they found themselves ingratiated with—the influencers and fly-by-nighters who would always bail as soon as the trend went even a little south. Not that Pale Waves themselves are the same as that, but for a band that’s redressed their sound with every new album thus far, being handed an excuse to keep doing so is more a happy coincidence.

But second to that, it often felt as though Pale Waves were pulled into the scene rather than venturing through themselves. Regardless of stated influence or how they’d clearly make the most of it, there was almost a means-to-an-end-ness about pop-punk’s place in the brew. It’s likely what contributed to their ‘odd band out’ feel on this year’s Slam Dunk bill, where they were as good as ever—their most consistent peaks continue to jut out on the live stage—but it was a different vibe overall. Where their aforementioned peers over-corrected into pop-punk and flamed out even more spectacularly for it, for Pale Waves, they genuinely might not have expected it to be taken this far.

Needless to say, Pale Waves aren’t at fault for leaving pop-punk behind. How could they be? They were dragged forth under the (then-reliable) pretenses of a known, established name acting as another genre cash-cow, when the likelihood is that they were beneficiaries of the trend rather than blatant hangers-on. You can tell by how Unwanted was, in fact, a pretty good album, galvanised by pop-punk rather than jamming their awkwardly-shaped peg in and hoping for the best. It was, for sure, their best album, because it still felt like a Pale Waves album. Yes, they’ve always been uneven and had their releases packed with a lot of chaff, but when you isolate the best stuff—along with a way to make it even better—the highs will obviously leap out.

What’s good is how that appears to have developed into a transferable skill, too. If Pale Waves have been stymied by their own naivety in the past, then going back to re-examine earlier territory under their new lens feels like a worthwhile decision, especially when there’s still advancement to be observed. Smitten is about as close to their genesis as they could throw back to—light indie-pop with an emphasis firmly on the ‘pop’, though not to where it overshadows a greater creative soul. Putting this next to its original form, the contrasts fall out in spades. Back then, Pale Waves found themselves staid under the wing of The 1975; now, they’ve just come out with their best album.

It’s all built off how the initial incarnation of Pale Waves was easier to want to like than to actually do so. The pop instincts were there, albeit very sporadically and haphazard in whether or not they’d work. Now, with the benefit of experience in both composition and a lyrical front that still exudes youth without being childish or cloying, they’re fully there now. Smitten is actually the perfect word to sum up this particular interpretation of romance, with how sonically gauzy and rosy the indie-pop formula has been dressed up to seem. Behind the boards is Iain Berryman, whose past work with the likes of Wolf Alice and especially Florence + The Machine feel like nailed-on points of reference. It runs a lot deeper and smoother than just that, though—there’s sophisticated pop-rock apropos of one-time protégés of The 1975; various shades of decades-past pop-rock and indie-pop; even the softer colours and textures of impressionist art.

All of that makes a lot of sense along with Heather Baron-Gracie’s assertions of being inspired by sapphic literature and queer films, as Smitten carries their light and stereotypical softness. Glasgow opens the album with the perfect distillation of that, with the watery guitars and airtight drum punches and gust of synth sparkles that make the whole thing pop all the more. Rather than anything too unique or out-there, the emphasis is instead placed on how appealing Pale Waves’ music can be. It’s the hardest they’ve leaned into that, spoken for when they’ll veer towards the nucleus of uncut nostalgia, the ‘80s, without fully caving to it. Thinking About You is the closest they’re pulled into its orbit, though with its guitar gleam and honest-to-goodness power-ballad percussion—like, the proper stuff—it’s a much easier win than some off-the-shelf synthpop pastiche.

It’s noteworthy how, compared to the acts who do instinctively default to that tired methodology, Pale Waves aren’t gated by their influence; not even close. Going back to Thinking About You again, as indebted as it is to big-haired belters in spirit and sound, the feel of it is almost worlds away. Baron-Gracie as a vocalist doesn’t suit that type of performance; she describes her own technique as “yodelling”, and while that’s a bit unfair, it captures the style that doesn’t fit cleanly in the prescribed nostalgia boxes. That’s indelibly a good thing; the crop of ‘90s frontwomen in her purview lends a lot more reach and diversity. The Cranberries’ Dolores O’Riordan is cited amongst them, and fittingly comes out the most on the keyword “linger”.

Removed from the ‘theory’ of the situation, though, Smitten is simply rock-solid, almost all the way down. Finally the chaff endemic across previous albums has been removed, leaving one that still has a little overhang towards the end to call truly lean, but is fully rid of noticeable dips and fluctuations. You’re more likely to hit something on here that works than doesn’t. And while that’s the kind of praise that smacks of disingenuous, backhanded assessment, you have to understand how Pale Waves have been dogged by their inability to stick an entire landing since day dot. Smitten really is that much of a turning point, and in a big way. The stacked first half is the norm, but late-album beauties like Hate To Hurt You and Seeing Stars are borderline unorthodox for Pale Waves.

The point is how effortlessly likable this is, and how Pale Waves have dug down to its bones in order to leverage it. It makes for some wonderfully inviting highlights, like a glance at 2000s pop-rock retrofitted with glorious gloss-pop bluster in Kiss Me Again, or what’s even a kernel of alt-country on Last Train Home thanks to its lilt and gentle plucking melody. The production as a whole pulls its weight exceptionally, in what might be an easy out to missteps that a shine this thick can easily subsume, but hey—if it works, it works. This demonstrably does work, to where it’s the backbone of Smitten and the source of its more languid, sensual vibe. A song like Perfume simply wouldn’t beam out its lovestruck awe in the same way, nor would Not A Love Song have as much wistful sonder in its portrayal of a straining, cracking relationship.

And, look—it goes without saying that none of this is earth-shattering stuff. This is still Pale Waves we’re talking about here; any talk of ‘reinvention’ is taken with a basketball-sized grain of salt. Even so, there’s a place for music like this that taps into the most easygoing pleasure centres of the brain, and that still deserves to be good, too. It’s what they’ve always seemed to aim for in the past, only to find the closest approach last time, and tweak it into something special now. Smitten is the closest to a great album that Pale Waves have ever gotten, on multiple fronts and by a considerable amount. All it’s taken was a metamorphosis into the pop band they always could’ve and should’ve been, a tall order previously but one that’s paid off in spades.

For fans of: The 1975, Florence + The Machine, Crawlers

‘Smitten’ by Pale Waves is released on 27th September on Dirty Hit Records.

Words by Luke Nuttall