PinkPantheress Revisits The Sound of Effervescent Sadness But Doesn't Grow On 'Heaven Knows'

There’s the saying “misery loves company,” and in many ways, heartbreak is company some of us masochistically indulge, particularly with music, when we’ve lost a lover.

On her anticipated debut album, Heaven knows, PinkPantheress crafts her own Shakespearean tragedy, but doesn’t quite evolve from the themes or sounds of her past work. She utilizes heaps of avant garde synths, electronic dance, and percussion beats that add a sparkly gloss to lyrics which touch on heavier themes of death, love lost and unrequited, and grief. In doing so, she brings to light the darker sides of a young soul attempting to navigate heartbreak.

PinkPantheress is hardly the first artist to put a face to the resurgence of emo pop that has Gen Z in a chokehold. Several musical colleagues like David Kushner, known for his melancholic acoustics, or Olivia Rodrigo, known for her punkish pop rock breakup tracks, also rose to fame through TikTok virality. However, the UK songstress draws direct inspiration from Hip Hop, R&B, Jersey club, 80s UK pop, and classical music, creating ambient worlds that plunge the listener into an array of glittery atmospheric and emotional turmoil.

“Another life,” featuring Rema, opens with a somber, spooky organ that counters sonic expectations, and sets the tone for the whole project. Within seconds, the melody switches up to a faster UK break beat as the singer recounts how deeply she loves a person and shakes off the imagery of waking up next to their lifeless body. Similarly, “Ophelia,” opens with a flickering harp, slow percussion, and cymbals that add depth to the fairy-like woodland atmosphere.

The whimsical ambiance of the beat tugs at your heart strings. However, the lyrics vacillate between what seems like homicide and heartbreak, wrapped up in a larger metaphor about the way grief can feel like drowning. On “Capable of love,” she coos sorrowful laments about heartbreak, delivered in a cutting directness that brings the listener back to their own love lost. “You are somebody that I want to keep / but you said it’s not deep and to that answer I weep.” The penultimate track fades with a grungy guitar riff, where the echoes of her yearning for those “three little words” feels beautifully haunting.

In a recent interview with The Guardian, PinkPantheress made a confession. “I don’t think I’m very brandable. I dress weird. I’m shy.” She proved this at Camp Flog Gnaw, when in front of tens of thousands of adoring fans she meekly whispered: “I have stage fright.” She’s an enigma of an artist, a young woman who seemed comfortable with creating experimental singles in her bedroom, now having to contend with millions of eyes on her at all times. It’s no wonder she originally never showed her face on her singles. That insecurity and shyness is essential to her aura, and something she tackles in her music as well.

“Mosquito,” opens with an acoustic guitar, which is then layered with bass and snare beats as a tempo pick-me-up. The melody feels hopeful, as though the singer is ready to conquer the world. Instead, the world she’s attempting to conquer is riddled with anxious attachment and obsession. Similarly, on “Feelings,” lyrics like: “I realize that I’m peakin too early” hints at deeper rooted insecurities shrouded in mystery. The magic of PinkPantheress is her ability to romanticize themes one could label toxic, a plague of the modern landscape of dating.

While it’s exciting to see PinkPantheress’ reputation grow to the point where she’s able to collaborate with legends like Kelela, she’s still getting the hang of working with others on grander scales. Their track “Bury Me” could have been an otherworldly and futuristic collaboration. But, unfortunately it falls flat. The two-minute song doesn’t leave much time for Kelela to spread her vocal wings, and if you’re not paying close enough attention to each consecutive cut, it’s an easy song to miss altogether. This is true throughout the album where most of its tracks launch the listener into a fantasy world, while others like “The aisle,” “Internet baby,” and “Blue,” feel like fillers that only hold the listener’s attention due to its head-bobbing melodies.

Heaven knows shows us that PinkPantheress knows what she likes but doesn’t necessarily exemplify her ability to create music outside of the platform that catapulted her career. The same can be said of many rising artists, it takes time, experience, and continuous imagination to push oneself to new heights. Her angelic voice, ability to tug at our heart strings, and inherent awkwardness allows her the breathing room to remain relatable and evolve at her own pace.

Heaven knows may not creatively propel PinkPantheress to new heights, but it’s a poetic and dramatic compilation of breakup songs that will leave a listener dancing around their living room while yearning for their toxic ex.