Dua Lipa – Radical Optimism
★★★☆☆ | The ‘Vacanza queen’ puts her travels to good use, serving up a decent helping of eclectic bangers to soundtrack any summer adventure.
Photo by Tyrone Lebon
Everyone loves to poke fun at Dua Lipa for her extensive holidaying (myself included), but have we ever considered she might have been doing some extended field research? Because truly, where do you go as an artist after a career-defining, banger-filled, ‘can-thrive-in-a-pandemic’ era like Future Nostalgia? Surely you take a well-deserved break in the reclusive hilltops of Ibiza and emerge, sun-kissed and glowing, with an album that feels like summer in a bottle. Sexy, light and playful, Radical Optimism doesn’t swing for the home-runs of its ambitious predecessor, arriving instead as a collection of deliciously wonky pop songs for easy listening (and dancing) on a warm summers day.
After a pretty amped up run of singles, kicking off with the supercharged ‘Houdini’, it was a little unclear how the remaining songs would complement (or contrast) these psychedelic-tinged bangers. Early quotes from Dua seemed to majorly stress that the psychedelic-pop influence, most notably due to Kevin Parker’s heavy contributions to the album, but her Rolling Stone interview also cited ‘Massive Attack and Nineties Britpop’ references as well. And with a title like ‘Radical Optimism’, you’d kind of expect to be a little mindblown. Unfortunately, the album doesn’t quite live up to that hype but it does demonstrate major strides in Lipa’s artistry and ability as a vocalist. Due to her assemblage of her powerhouse ‘band’ (Parker, Danny L Harle, Tobias Jesso Jr. and Caroline Ailin), this is some of her most eclectic music to date. But I can’t help think that its potential has been slightly stifled by Lipa’s apparent obligation to deliver ‘digestible’ pop songs (I always shudder when I remember how her label tried to kill the amazing flute melody in ‘Physical’). As a result, the albums strongest moments are when she gives into the groove and lets the music sing.
The smooth opener, ‘End of an Era’, sets the scene perfectly: a sparkly glitch gives way to vibey chords before dropping into a smooth, tropical groove. Immediately, we are transported to the French Riviera, a gentle ocean breeze running through our hair as we sip a beautifully chilled Aperol Spritz and sway back and forth in a linen caftan. But as the song continues, you realise its commitment to the groove is much more serious than its attempts at soundtracking a simple poolside moment. Lipa’s home is clearly on the dance floor, and by the time we get to ‘Houdini’ we are stomping in full force. We then launch into ‘Training Season’ – and by this point, the lyrical through line of Radical Optimism starts to be revealed. Though she may challenge her lovers and lament their shortcomings, she never gives up completely. The album oozes with compassion but rarely dips into delusion, instead leaning into acceptance to carve a way forward, confident and reassured.
That’s not to say she’s not putting them through their paces. ‘French Exit’ is a sultry banger set to Spanish guitar licks (ironic, I know) that toys with the idea of a ‘good goodbye’: “It’s not a broken heart if I don’t break it / ‘Goodbye’ doesn’t hurt if I don’t say it.” But beyond its coy lyrics, the song’s most playful element is the gritty harpsichord that arrives at the refrain, adding a Bardcore-esque flare to this already genre-bending track. It’s these playful production moments that make this album so much fun to listen to, with Danny and Kevin adding in a load of unconventional instruments to round out these tracks. The flute melody of ‘Maria’; the church bells on ‘End of an Era’ echoed amongst the electronics of ‘Illusion’; the live drums of ‘These Walls’ further amped up on the triumphant ‘Falling Forever’ – there are so many details buried in these tracks. I think I even caught some spoons in the background of ‘Falling Forever’ as well. There’s such a distinct sonic palette on Radical Optimism, that even if it doesn’t explore its full potential, it definitely does a decent job maintaining a pretty groovy musical standard.
The highlight for me is perhaps the song that provides a bit of respite for this slick-pop world: the sincere ‘Anything For Love’. The studio recording of the ‘band’ chatting before leaning into a seemingly one-take lead vocal captures, in 15 seconds, the magic of this album. The album arrives so ‘produced’ that some of the humanity of this music is lost, but it’s this ‘peek behind the curtain’ that highlights just how radical this ‘optimism’ might be if these songs are written from a place of hurt and confusion. How cool would it have been for the album to lean more heavily into the studio instrumentation and function as a really dope ‘jam session’, with the album’s charm coming from this collaborative ambiance. The switch up of ‘Anything For Love’ also feels as though it also speaks to the essence of Radical Optimism in its truest form – a sad song is only as sad as the music it’s put to. But with its conventional lyricism, this album is not quite the ‘radical’ psychedelic pop odyssey we expected. It is clear however that Dua has a strong vision for her music, but she’s struggled to stick the landing in a way that really creates an ambitious body of work. But maybe I’m being too harsh, after all, I haven’t had a beach holiday in years…
