Just over a year ago, Lizzo appeared on Saturday Night Live, announcing a new album called Love in Real Life in grandstanding style. Wielding an electric guitar, clad in a Trump-baiting T-shirt that read Tariffied, she performed its title track and two other new songs, Still Bad and Don’t Make Me Love U. As with her appearance earlier the same week on a late night talkshow – during which she ran into the audience to high-five fans who were yelling “we love you Lizzo!” – it looked very much like a defiant comeback, fit to drag her out of the controversy that erupted at the end of her hugely successful 2023 world tour. Three former backing dancers and a costume designer filed lawsuits against the singer alleging harassment and discrimination: damaging claims given how Lizzo’s songs have preached a message of inclusivity, body positivity and self-confidence. Some of the allegations were dismissed by a judge but others are ongoing; Lizzo has refused to settle out of court, saying: “I’m fighting the case because I know that it’s not true.” But the Love in Real Life single, a pivot towards rock that owed a little to Tom Petty’s American Girls – or the Strokes’ American Girls-indebted Last Nite if you prefer – failed to make the charts, a far cry from the period between 2018 and 2022 when Lizzo’s singles seemed to go multi-platinum as a matter of course. The same fate befell Still Bad, a track much more in the vein of her big hits, prompting a rethink. The album was pulled, Lizzo apparently taking control of her own destiny – “I need to do shit my way”. A mixtape that returned her more-or-less to where she started, before pop stardom came calling – punchy hip-hop, albeit tricked out with guest appearances from Doja Cat and SZA – appeared in its place: My Face Hurts from Smiling received mixed reviews and underwhelming streaming figures. All of which means that Bitch, her fifth album proper, lands at a deeply peculiar juncture in Lizzo’s career. Given that the public apparently don’t want her going rock, nor rapping in the style of her 2013 debut Lizzobangers, nor indeed making the kind of music they were buying in their millions three years ago, the question of what they actually do want has presumably hung heavy over its making. Lizzo hasn’t come up with a definitive answer. Bitch tries a bit of everything, from pastiching Tame Impala on Happy 2 Be to making clipped new-wave rock decorated with Cure-like guitars on She Stole My Man; Sexy Ladies is a girls-night-out-soundtracking reiteration of the old body positivity message. This scatter-gun approach makes Bitch a disjointed listen. Moreover, there’s something oddly subdued about its tone, whether it’s dabbling in 80s retro – Don’t Make Me Love U brings to mind the arena-rousing keyboard hook from Tina Turner’s The Best, but renders it into a distant, affectless backing vocal – or delving into jazzy R&B on Too Nice. The vibraphone-heavy beat on the latter is fantastic, rich in small-hours atmosphere, but the actual song feels nondescript: it only really comes to life in its dying moments, when Lizzo stops singing and starts playing a flute solo. The title track interpolates the chorus from Meredith Brooks’ 1997 pop-grunge hit of the same name, but somehow flattens it in the process. Crooned over smooth, G-funky R&B, it feels stripped of its fiery power, less of a snarl and more of a shrug. The lyrics often seem similarly equivocal. You don’t want for apparent references to Lizzo’s recent woes – “I hope it makes you happy to hurt somebody else”, “the thing about depression, you think your life is over”, “you’d still be working at the mall if it wasn’t for me” – but they ultimately feel neither pugilistic nor racked, just confused and sore: “I have feelings too,” she sings on piano ballad A Toast. Not everything here is underwhelming: Whose Hair Is This is a great southern soul pastiche, home to an impressively raw vocal and a snappy plot twist at the end of the lyrics; That Grrrl employs an old-school Chicago house bassline to energising effect. But what’s definitely lacking is an unequivocal pop smash, the kind of thing that Lizzo once seemed to be able to write to order. Perhaps that’s inevitable. One of the reasons Lizzo hit so big in the first place was that she made pop music that perfectly captured a zeitgeist, and that zeitgeist has moved on: the era of body positivity has been displaced by the era of Ozempic and Mounjaro; the kind of post-pandemic, post-Trump optimism embodied on 2022’s About Damn Time now sounds like a transmission from a distant lost age. We’re living in a different world now, and Bitch suggests Lizzo has yet to work out how to respond to it: “I’m doing my best,” she sings on A Toast, which feels like the most telling lyric of all. Charlie Franklin – By the BirdsTwo minutes of lo-fi acoustic allure, from an EP that seems to transpose the eerie, rough-hewn folk of Jolie Holland’s early solo albums to a bucolic British setting.