It might be tempting to box the band into a predetermined slot after hearing something like “Breathe”, which, upon an unfocused listen, sounds similar to most indie pop out today – an unassuming background, easy lyrics. But as the album continues, their deft songwriting and clear melodies show that they’re never predictable: the saxophone solos on “The Exiles” (and “Pillar of Salt”) are more than welcome, and “Enough Is Enough” is a dive into country pop with a twangy rift. “If you’re done I’m done” is a piano-backed ballad diving into loneliness, and “Breathe”, too, incorporates a hushed refrain of “Stop for a second and breathe”, a mental health-pop crossover like Cassandra Jenkins’ meditative “Hard Drive.”
Bravo! might be sonically upbeat, but its lyrics concerning memory and reminiscing the past are usually dark. “Parade”, which opens the record, is an atmospheric, quiet sequel to Sylvia Plath’s fig tree problem: “Missed opportunities, coded in memories,” Kirkpatrick sings, before repeating, “I can see the fruit that’s fallen.” Over a twangy, sparkling beat on “Used to Be”, she reflects, “I used to watch angels in the outfield, thinking I’d never need saving.” “The Wait” is an indictment of the past, where the narrator experiences the near-universal problem of staying up until 4am wishing she’d done things differently. The memory motif culminates on the triumphant “Pillar of Salt”, where she sings in the refrain, “Never gonna look back again.” These songs talk to each other, making them feel tight-knit but also within the realm of the artists’ personal growth.
Kirkpatrick also sings of the dissolution of relationships: the lyrically dark “The Exiles” plays in mediums, unsure of a partner’s continued involvement helps or hurts a situation, whereas a later acts as an advice column for self-prioritization, urging the listener to abandon what’s not working in their life in exchange for “prettier things.” “Sorcery”, on the other hand, combines a glittery, haphazard beat which includes what has to be a dark barking to muse about the improbability and awe of a relationship coming to fruition. “You and I among a million dying stars aligned… It’s a weird world”, she sings, not dissimilar to the message of Self Esteem’s “Fucking Wizardry” or Kacey Musgraves’ “Oh What a World.”
Bravo! has jams aplenty. When a song isn’t offering needed advice about relationships and the intricacies of life, it’s a calming listen that pokes out of the weeds as music with a clear point of view. If anything else, Sorry Girls are one of those rare bands whose reflective, honest writing feels like they reached into your psyche in order to craft songs that hit you where it hurts. God, yes, it’s a weird world.
