The Dallas-born musician hurls everything the wall, and the vast majority of it sticks, resulting in a busy, restless, but ultimately cohesive record.
Liv.e’s approach can shift several times within a single song. “Clowns” begins with spacious beats and simple bass. This gives way to swelling strings, then descends into blown out vocals and heavy drums before a woodwind coda George Gershwin would be proud of. Often, though, the backing is stripped back and spare. “Underground” is built on a springy three note bass riff and ticking hi hat. “Our Father,” a menacing outlier, takes this a step further, embracing atonality – think horror movie synths and industrial sounds.
These austere beds ensure the main character is Liv.e herself, and she’s more than equal to the spotlight. As a vocalist she’s hugely versatile: comedic on “A Slumber Party‽,” and emotive on break up jam “Find Out.” Her finest moment comes on “Heart Break Escape,” another stripped back effort – she carries the entire tune melodically, the repetitive build serving only to showcase her talents to the fullest.
Liv.e eschews featured artists altogether this time around, instead building tunes around her own multi-tracked, shape shifting singing. There’s a ton of breakout potential here, with many cuts feeling (and I say this in the best possible way) TikTok ready. The album can be deeply strange when it wants to, opening with the skittering “Gardetto,” all breakbeats, affected vocals, and the Roy Ayers-esque keyboards that are put to great, if not slightly same-y, use across the album.
When Half Pearl goes pop, though, it’s arguably at its best. “Wild Animals” is the obvious hit, boasting a twinkling piano riff and a laid back, charismatic turn from Liv.e in truth teller form. She spins a common metaphor – men are dogs, basically – but does so with a cool detachment. Instead of raging, she throws out spiky kiss-offs; “They always got somebody that they seein' / And I hope that girl make the choice to leave 'em.”
It’s here that Liv.e’s progression is most clearly felt. 2020’s Couldn't Wait To Tell You…, for all its great sound and moments of inspiration, meanders somewhat. Here, over a lengthy 17 tracks, the focus is razor-sharp, each new twist contributing to something wholly satisfying.
