Not just because it’s the word she repeats at the end of “Home Alone,” but her music has always been full of the wink-wink coyness of a flirtation going down the right path. Her 2019 debut, Essentials, dealt with the puppy love she describes, and 2021’s Sensational was clearer at setting boundaries – she wants someone who’s polite, drama-free, but also a guy to chill with. On Still, her third album, she dives deep into modern dating, but also the anxieties of defining the self.
On the moan-laden “ooh,” she recounts a steamy night in, but chills out on “Believe It,” a more straight-forward track about letting yourself indulge in the fantasy; “The summer made your tone real glowing / The bottom of your waist keeps showing,” she sings. “Home Alone,” too, instantly recognizable from an early-aughts Britney Spears-like bang into the song, drips sweat even though it’s more about the idea of a lover – “you know why I’m really calling,” she mentions. “Lucky,” Still’s lead single and most dazzling song, uses its frenetic beat to sing about the chance pairing of a partner – one who listens to what de Casier is really saying, who makes Copenhagen in the winter less depressing. “Really think they do, but they dunno,” she sings playfully about the two’s intimate relationship.
But de Casier has flaunted her sharp analysis of modern dating before – Still
excites when she’s anxious, reflecting on herself as a person. “I wanna
be a mom / and still do my job / Why can’t I have it all?” she pleads
on the suffocating “The Princess,” examining the dichotomy she feels
about loving hard and working hard. “I’m just trying to be someone,” she
sings on the closing track, where she breaks down a tense moment,
saying she’d hate a partner, only because of insecurities that they’d
leave. This songwriting is personal and intense, but elsewhere on the
album things become less nuanced: the aptly titled “Anxious” and “Toxic”
are a little too on-the-nose – “I over-complicate things / I kinda
still think you’re not that bad,” goes the former. One striking line
comes from the cutting “My Day Off,” where she bemoans a partner
over-invested in de Casier: “Let me blossom / Get yourself outta my
lawn.” But later, she declines a Sunday meeting in order to do laundry,
saying to send their cares (an ask about how work was going) in an email
instead. The attitude comes across petty, instead of someone
prioritizing self-care — likely not the intended effect, even though the
Usher-like screeching warps play interestingly with the material.
Still has some moments that are quiet yet
impactful – the collaborations with Blood Orange and They Hate Change,
particularly, play with sound effects to make their meanings stand out.
On the former, both sing the line, “Soon, I’ll be giggling with someone /
that appreciates me,” undercutting even more a former partner’s
coldness over an atmospheric, delicately arranged beat. But on
“Ex-Girlfriend,” Shygirl’s voice comes in immediately out-of-place; it’s
clear they didn’t record the song together, maybe not even on the same
planet. The song revolves around one pretty idea – “When your phone
rings / Do you wish it was me? / With my cute face that / Showed up on
your screen” – but the other verses harp on the same subject, stuffing
the runtime with unimportant songwriting.
Erika de Casier is known for her smaller moments, the times when she brings the mood down for an immediate effect. But Still,
a little surprisingly, is slant on the memorable writing that makes her
sound so unique, and frequently, her flat affect does nothing to bring
light to the songs. Still is somewhat of a step forward for the
alt-R&B star, but often loses its way with repetitive songwriting
and a lack of shine; its stillness might be too lax an angle.
