“Wishbone” is Conan Gray’s fourth studio album, released on Aug. 15. Over the course of twelve songs, Gray opens up about past relationships that won’t seem to stay in the past, the rush that comes with a crush, unrequited love and the continued reverberations of childhood trauma. With a range of sounds, from the bombastic “Nauseous” to the introspective “Class Clown,” Gray’s newest release has something for anyone who’s ever broken off the short end of the wishbone.
“Wishbone” was initially written by Gray for himself and his friends, but over the course of two years of private creation, he realized he wanted to share the music with the public. Despite how personal and involved the genesis of this album was, upon the first listen, a few songs fall short of the emotional impact they should have had, with just one or two elements detracting from their ability to connect with the listener. The vocal processing in the lead single “This Song” makes Gray’s performance feel overly compressed and reminiscent of the sound quality of tinny laptop speakers. The second single, “Vodka Cranberry,” has an engaging final chorus, but includes one too many yodel-like runs. “My World” has a catchy verse, but a chorus that veers into “Mystical Magical” territory with the excessive falsetto. The repetition of a drawn-out “me” in the chorus of “Sunset Tower” is another example. All of these little choices in production or performance turn first impressions away from the great lyrics—one of Gray’s enduring strengths. He writes about budding love (“This Song”), a relationship falling apart (“Vodka Cranberry”), reclaiming your energy after wasting it on pleasing other people (“My World”) and being hung up on someone who seems to have moved on (“Sunset Tower”). While the subjects may seem overplayed, there is something fresh here. Gray’s confessional style makes his niche, personal experiences feel relatable. After reading the lyrics, I played through the album again and connected to songs I had dismissed before, so I urge anyone with an apprehensive gut reaction to give it a second listen.
On the other hand, there are songs on this album that don’t need more than one chance to prove themselves, namely “Romeo,” “Class Clown,” “Nauseous,” and “Connell.” “Romeo,” the fourth song on the album, is a pop rock jam that captures the feeling of utter freedom that strikes after leaving behind a relationship that did you wrong. This song has it all: trumpet fanfare, gang vocals full of teenage angst, groovy bass lines and cheeky references to Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet.” The jubilant sound and decisive lyrics will get anyone who spent the “summer in love, then … went and got dumped” singing along.
“Class Clown,” sixth on the album and a stand-out track, turns away from yearning for love and towards yearning for freedom from the past. Gray sings about using humor to conceal his unstable upbringing as a mixed-race kid in Texas with an abusive father. He plays on the character of the class clown: making his persona so visible that he can render the “unworthy” parts of himself invisible. When he’s making people laugh, “there’s this beautiful moment in it where [he] can sorta just vanish,” implying that he’s not only hiding his trauma from others, but also himself. He’s singing softly, telling us his secret in a chromatic melody backed by fidgety, eerie guitar playing unresolved chords. Through every element of the vocal performance, writing and production, Gray invites the listener to take part in his jittery marionette dance.
“Nauseous” is the seventh track and uses its dramatic production to mimic Gray’s anxiety that the stable, loving relationship his partner provides will come crashing down. As he sings the word “nauseous,” the music swells and heaves, evoking the eponymous feeling. This motif, along with the heavy drums, lead to a visceral depiction of love tinged with the heart-pumping, blood-rushing, stomach-turning fear that it might all be ripped away. At the same time, Gray maintains his pop sensibilities and turns that intensity into a song that still gets the listener humming along.
“Connell,” the ninth track, takes on a less expansive sound than the rest of the album. Gray’s forlorn vocals and a solo guitar take center stage, occasionally supported by strings and sustained bass notes that punch the listener in the gut. He laments about the time he wasted with a partner, presumably a man, who would hide him away and go on to date girls. The song ends with Gray repeating the name “Connell” with increasing distortion on the vocal, drums and bass to drive home the feeling of screaming into the void, a relatable experience to any listener who has desperately held onto a relationship that they knew could never work.
Like the rest of the pop genre, Gray’s discography can be misrepresented as simple, canned music with no purpose but to fill radio time or the minds of vapid teenagers. But behind these earworms are a deep level of insight into the damage life can do on a person through love, trauma and loss. “Wishbone” is an album best experienced multiple times, with each successive listen revealing new perspectives and provoking different emotions and memories in every listener.
Ultimately, however, there is only so much one can get out of streaming music from their device. Luckily, Conan Gray is going on tour! The Wishbone Pajama Show is an 18-stop tour beginning on Sept. 11 at the Blossom Music Center in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, with opener hemlocke springs. Tickets are still available as of the time this was written.