She embarked on a successful solo tour, collaborated with Angel Olsen and Waxahatchee, and opened for Harry Styles’ arena shows. She gained widespread recognition as her fourth studio album History of a Feeling took on the momentum of a dazzling debut, but she’s no stranger to patience and uncertainty; throughout this whirlwind year, she was writing a new album about falling in love.
Diaz’s strength is certainly in her sharp and salient songwriting, which found purchase in the rocky desolation of her crumbling marriage on History of a Feeling. Diaz tells it like it is, relating with little embellishment the specific yet universal experiences of a breakup, finding poignance in the banal. Her signature style of songwriting is perfect here, cutting sharply into the emotions she explores. The sparse production on the record highlights Diaz’s raw performances, her heart bared to the listener in a show of vulnerability.
On her newest effort Weird Faith, Diaz applies the same style to her experiences of buoyant joy and affirmation in a new relationship, with some insecurity mixed in for good measure. With this shift in tone and subject, the precision which gives gravity to her darker writing only seems to drag her down. Something falters on Weird Faith; the songs feel naked with their sparse production, and the literalism diminishes the artistry rather than enhancing it. Where all these elements worked to her advantage on History of a Feeling, Diaz experiences on Weird Faith the age-old complacency of writing about falling in love, especially entering into a healthy relationship.
There are glimpses of greatness on Weird Faith which allude to Diaz’s maintained prowess as a songwriter. On lead single “Same Risk”, Diaz asks plainly, “Do you think this could ruin your life? / ‘Cause I could see it ruining mine.” Where she still shines is the moments in which she effectively conveys huge emotions in just a few words, which has always been her talent; the emotions on Weird Faith are just harder to write well. Diaz still gives a stunning vocal performance, especially in the standout duet with Kacey Musgraves “Don’t Do Me Good”, but it is harder to get lost in the intricacies of her voice on this record. Weird Faith toys with the emotional cohesion of Diaz’s best work, resulting in an album whose sum is only the value of its parts.
