Most casual listeners of pop music know Rachel Platten only for her 2015 hit single, “Fight Song.” But on her new album “Waves,” Platten seems determined to shed her one-hit-wonder image and assert herself as a rising pop superstar.
The release of “Waves” comes after months of anticipation on social media, including regular updates on its recording process and teaser clips of songs sent to her fans — the “Plattenums,” as they call themselves — through Instagram.
Last year, Platten’s signature single “Fight Song” was the go-to anthem for Hillary Clinton’s 2016 presidential campaign. The song blared as Clinton walked onstage at the Democratic National Convention and replayed endlessly during her events and rallies. Though Platten has downplayed the song’s link to the campaign in the past, she has stayed in the political spotlight, participating in the Women’s March and addressing current events through social media.
So it comes as no surprise that her new album contains political overtones unseen in her previous works. Her lead single “Broken Glass,” for example, is a proud and unashamed anthem of feminism, inspired by her experiences marching on Washington. In the song, Platten describes herself as a “fighter” and a “survivor,” overcoming political detractors to demand social change. She envisions a future wherein women not only shatter the metaphorical glass ceiling, but they dance on the broken glass as well.
Politics is not the only way Platten distances herself from her “Fight Song” roots. Platten’s strength as a songwriter has always come from her ability to take personal experiences and reshape them into relatable, radio-ready narratives. Her previous album, “Wildfire,” is full of these stories: “Lone Ranger” adapts the inconsistency of her touring life into a tale about fear of commitment, and her motivational breakout hit “Fight Song” draws from the disappointments she faced in the music industry.
Platten’s “Waves” retains some of this style, but the tracks are much more direct and unpackaged. The heartbreakingly poignant “Fooling You” is an obvious reflection of her anxieties and insecurities, while the piano-driven “Grace” is a confession of her own vulnerability. And if those were not a clear enough break, the brass-powered “Good Life” includes a 30-second spoken monologue to the listener about her career and her future as a songwriter.
“I’m really, like, the luckiest person in the world in the smallest ways,” Platten sings in the song. “’Cause I get to make music, every day — no matter who's listening, no matter what it sounds like.”
Though the new approach may invite charges of narcissism — pop music is meant to be universally relatable, after all — her songs are somehow just as heartfelt and engaging as her previous ones.
Following the approach of tell-all pop stars like Taylor Swift, Platten’s total honesty in telling her stories seems to let her fans not only identify with the lyrics but empathize with them as well. The last three songs of the album — “Fooling You,” “Good Life” and “Grace” — propel with such raw sincerity that the emotions they conjure are visceral, indescribable mixtures of joy, grief, hope and loss.
That is not to say “Waves” does not have any fun. The track “Labels” is a nonchalant defense of casual romance without, well, labels. Similarly, the club-ready “Shivers” — a significant improvement from her last such attempt, “Hey Hey Hallelujah” — is a bubbly song of sex and attraction. Against a synth backdrop, Platten asks her lover to “just do what you do” and “make my body shiver.”
On her new album, Platten is more experimental than ever, maybe even to a fault. “Keep Up,” whose rap-like bridge was teased on social media, sounds like an amalgam of three different singles, with the verse, chorus and bridge each following its own respective musical style with little subtlety in connecting the pieces together.
But for a singer trying to outgrow her one-hit-wonder image, experimentation can only be a good thing, and Platten seems determined to show the world that she’s still got a lot of fight left in her.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.