Coco & Clair Clair sound like someone gave a record deal to the band formed by the cool girls in your seventh grade class. They’re weird, bitchy, and a little self-obsessed, but they’re charming enough to pull it all off. Coco’s brazen rap and Clair’s hushed vocals have a childlike quality, accompanied by noisy production and whimsical lyrics about the power of friendship. Since forming in 2014, the band has risen to fame off slyly addictive singles like “Knife Play,” “Crushcrushcrush,” and the viral hit “Pretty.” The duo’s debut full length album, Sexy, continues in the vein of these tracks, melding the aloof and the outlandish.
Coco and Clair Clair coalesce and subvert trends with ease. Their music has the airy beats of cloud rap, the breathy vocals and reverb of dream pop, and the Auto-Tune and genuinely funny songwriting of hyperpop. On Sexy, the pair works with even more sounds and a wide range of collaborators, including Lagos-based rapper Deto Black and NYC indie band Porches. This experimentation is promising, but Sexy shines brightest when it builds on the duo’s strengths, creating a playful mood that seems designed to welcome new listeners into their all-star clique.
On Sexy, the pair sings over and over again about being hotter and cooler than everyone they know without managing to alienate anyone. They look flawless from all angles, they insist on “Tbtf”; on “Pop Star” they brag about being paid to show up to parties in their pajamas. Everyone wants to be them, everyone wants to get with them. It’s a cliché, but the silliness makes their pose feel original and genuine, inviting us to live vicariously through their inflated confidence. The record’s upbeat atmosphere encourages a physical response, asking fans to dance, sing along, or laugh out loud. More lackadaisical songs such as “8 Am” or “Love Me” weaken the album not because they are bad but because they feel out of place.
The duo’s cheeky self-obsession translates into a boredom around romance: They only have time for each other. Several songs address men who can’t keep up with them—they are ghosting Tinder matches and swerving exes who are still obsessed. “He wanna sync up to my period/Meanwhile he’s saved on my phone as ‘idiot,’” Coco raps on “Bad Lil Vibe.” Sexy feels like listening to the funniest, most confident people at a party making fun of everyone else in attendance because they just can’t keep up. “Realest bitches in the room always, me and Clair,” Coco quips. Despite their harshness, Coco and Clair Clair have surprisingly wholesome intentions. Sexy is an ode to two best friends against the world, finding a way to make it work when they are leagues above everyone around them.
