In the opening scenes of her video for “Feel the Way I Want,” New York singer-songwriter Caroline Rose stands outside a Ripley’s Believe It or Not! in Hollywood, California, and receives a phone call. It’s her agent. That audition she has? It’s in Hollywood, Florida. Off she goes on a cross-country dance trip to Florida, where she nails her audition for the role of a bug-eyed lobster.
This is the beginning of a gag Rose sees all the way through her fourth album, Superstar, which tells the story of a character based off an exaggerated version of herself, mixed with bits of Kanye West and 2007 Britney Spears. This character, or “anti-hero” as Rose often calls them, is a study in contradictions—confident and insecure, anxious and optimistic, ambitious to the point of delusion—who, having recently experienced the rush of success, now craves fame and riches.
Looking back, it seems obvious Rose would make such a character-driven album. By the time of her breakout third LP Loner in 2018, she had already started dressing in all red and refining an irreverent onstage persona. Loner was a hybrid offering: Americana-esque stories that played out from multiple perspectives, told through indie-pop melodies that carefully folded in programmatic drums and synthesizers. By contrast, Superstar is a single narrative. Chronological storytelling means the album has only one direction to travel; it’s easy to predict the main character’s impending undoing. Like a book whose author has overcommitted to her outline, the album’s linear structure sacrifices opportunities for spontaneity along the way.
Superstar also lacks some of the musical restraint that made Loner such a balanced listen. Armed with new studio tricks and the desire to create something from scratch, Rose played every position—songwriter, producer, engineer, guitarist, flutist, field recording supervisor. While her intentions are admirable, Superstar suffers from an excess of overwrought effects (reverb! panning!) that an outside collaborator might’ve trimmed. Still, when Rose manages to find the right balance on her own, as on lead single “Feel the Way I Want,” it’s clear she’s a fiercely talented artist with omnivorous taste that extends from the hyper-pop of Grimes to the abstract electronic music of Suzanne Ciani. The opening riff of “Back at the Beginning” recalls the wiry guitar solo from Dandy Warhols’ “We Used to Be Friends.” Given her wide range of source material, it’s easy to understand how Rose could struggle in the editing process.
What remains strong throughout the album are the lyrics. Rose is an undeniably gifted songwriter, capable of cleverness without sacrificing clarity. Her sense of humor is strong as ever, especially on “Do You Think We’ll Last Forever,” a sparse dance track about new-relationship anxiety. “I’m alright, I’m alright, I’m alright/It’s just a heart attack,” Rose insists. Later, on the standout “Freak Like Me,” she describes the object of her affection as a “split-level home,” a “brick through a broken window,” a “skin-tight suit,” a “vicious dom,” and a “drunk conversation.” Cobbled together, the evocative descriptions reveal a person ready to relish their freakiness in front of a lover who’s equally down.
These personal-feeling moments are the album’s strongest, and Superstar could use more of them. By clinging to the never-ending blank page of the bit, Rose winds up in shallower waters. Her previous albums demonstrate her gift for thinking critically about knotty concepts and turning heady observations on subjects like monotony and loneliness into indie-pop gold. Here, each song is a variation on the same ultimate theme: the fine line between aspiration and delusion. And while Rose mines the topic for all it’s worth—exploring the many side-effects and surprises that stem from unchecked ambition—her reluctance to explore perspectives beyond that of her neurotic anti-hero limit the experience.
Buy: Rough Trade
