Harry Styles has been in the news so much this past month for literally everything but his music. With two movies coming out in less than two months and a shitstorm of controversy related to his involvement in both projects, it’s easy to forget that his album Harry’s House came out less than four months ago and took the world by storm.
Tragically, since the school year had already ended then, The Argus did not get to write a full review of the album at the time of its release. Now, as the new school year begins and we find ourselves in the dawn of Styles’ acting era, I thought it would be fun to take a look back at the album that became such a sensation and really dissect what worked and what didn’t.
The album opens on a high point with the catchy, upbeat “Music for a Sushi Restaurant.” It’s not particularly unique; in fact, many on the internet have accused it of sounding like commercial music (indeed, it’s now the soundtrack for an AirPods ad.) But it was a fun listening experience and, more than any other song in Styles’ discography, it makes me want to get up and dance, in particular due to the horns in the chorus that elevate the mood of the song exponentially. The lyrics are kind of bizarre, but I think they pair well with the carefree mood of the song. I can tell why many fans have cited live performances of it as a highlight of his concerts.
The next track continues the upbeat mood with “Late Night Talking.” This song was first performed at Coachella before the album was released and, initially, I wasn’t particularly impressed. However, now this is my favorite track on the entire album. I absolutely love the production, and Styles’ soft vocal performance pairs perfectly with the relaxed yet giddy mood of the song. It is absolutely infectious and I cannot listen to it without smiling.
Devoted fans of Styles know his affinity for naming songs after fruit, with “Kiwi” on his self-titled debut album, and “Watermelon Sugar” and “Cherry” on Fine Line. Many had been speculating whether or not he would continue this trend on his third album, and thankfully Styles recognizes the importance of this tradition with his third track “Grapejuice.” This is one of the mellower tracks on the album, and has a dreamy and soothing vibe both in its production and Styles’ vocals. But the retrospective lyrics explore themes of romantic frustration and turning to alcohol, creating an interesting juxtaposition, perhaps reflecting the uncertainty of the narrator’s own feelings. It’s not a standout, but still a fun listen, and I particularly enjoy Styles’ whispered “one, two, three” at the opening and closing of the song.
When “As It Was” was released as the lead single on April 1st, it became an immediate hit, bigger than anything Styles had ever released in his solo career. When I reviewed it for The Argus in April, I noted that it served as a strong start to this new era of music that combined danceable ’80s synth-pop influences and introspective lyrics. My feelings have stayed mostly the same since then, and now I feel confident in declaring this as my favorite lead single out of all of Styles’ albums.
“Daylight” features what is without a doubt some of my favorite imagery on the entire album with the line “If I was a bluebird, I would fly to you / You’d be the spoon / Dip you in honey so I could be sticking to you.” This song also incorporates excellent electric guitar and drums in the final chorus that make the ending feel very climactic, and beautifully juxtapose the sparse production on the verses.
Unfortunately, we’ve now come to the first dud of the album with the next track, “Little Freak.” The title on its own was enough to give me some pause, but the song itself features some of my least favorite lyrics Styles has ever written. The whole song is basically just the narrator admitting he fucked up with his partner, whom he so kindly refers to as “Little freak, Jezebel” in the opening line of the song. Charming. The rest of the song is confessional, featuring lyrics like “I spilt beer on your friend, I’m not sorry” and “I disrespected you.” Again, charming. But the real winner for me is “You hide the body all that yoga gave you.” Simultaneously creepy and demeaning, it might be my least favorite lyric in Harry Styles’ entire discography. The vocal performances and production are not particularly memorable, and are overshadowed by lyrics that make me want to revoke this man’s songwriting privileges.
Switching tones drastically, “Matilda” is an ode to a lonely soul who has suffered cruelty at the hands of their family. I have listened to this song very few times, not because it’s bad, but because it is just too emotionally devastating for me to handle on a daily basis. I would argue this is the most gut-wrenching song Styles has ever written. The instrumentals are very sparse and acoustic, a stark difference from the heavily produced synth-pop of the rest of the album, which allows the lyrics to take center stage. It will always baffle me how Harry managed to follow some of his worst lyrical work with some of his most poignant.
Naturally, after the sucker punch that was “Matilda,” Harry pivots to “Cinema,” a bass-heavy track about lust and burgeoning feelings in a new relationship. The lyrics in this song feature some of the least sexy descriptions of sex I have ever heard, including “You’re getting yourself wet for me” and “You pop when we get intimate,” which are delivered in incredibly soft vocals that seem overpowered by the instrumentals. Besides the funky bassline, the only other highlight of this song is the background vocals in the outro where Styles makes full use of his upper register in a raspy belt that truly showcases his vocal strength.
“Daydreaming,” while a fun song, is not a noteworthy track. Once again, the incorporation of horns and a strong bassline gives the song a funky, danceable feeling. But quite frankly, I just find myself comparing it to “Music for a Sushi Restaurant,” which serves the same purpose, but does so much more effectively. The vocals are playful and fun, but, as a whole, it’s not a standout for me.
When I first heard “Keep Driving,” it was one of my favorites on the album. In retrospect, I think I was excited to hear some more interesting imagery after two tracks in a row of relative lyrical weakness. I still enjoy this song, but I definitely agree that it seems to be written in the same vein as Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” but with less emotional resonance. I really love how it culminates in a climactic bridge that seems to suggest an impending disaster, but then immediately dissipates into a soft outro, as if to suggest that the narrator is going to continue to ignore their problems and simply “keep driving.” Arguably some of this album’s best lyrical work.
“Satellite” is another track that didn’t particularly stick with me. The best part is the transition to the bridge, which features heavy drums and much more layered production and vocals. The first time I listened to it, that transition reminded me so much of the transition to the final chorus of One Direction’s “Little White Lies” from their iconic 2013 album Midnight Memories. So if nothing else, I’m glad to hear Styles hasn’t forgotten his roots.
In the penultimate track of the album, Styles returns to sparse acoustic instrumentation and soft vocals with “Boyfriends.” While the song sounds very beautiful, I did not love how the song is told from a second-person point of view. It feels like Styles is just telling the listener’s shitty love life back to them, which, quite frankly, is not the listening experience I am after. The irony of Styles having this song bemoaning men’s poor treatment of their romantic partners on the same album that features a song where he admits to disrespecting his own romantic partner is inescapable.
The album closes with “Love of My Life,” a song that confused me originally because it appeared to be reflecting on a past love, but the lyrics seemed to have some deeper meaning than just that. Fortunately, Styles has clarified that the song is a love letter to his home and England, which makes much more sense, as Styles left his hometown at age 16 to be on “The X Factor” and never really went back. This puts lyrics like “I take you with me every time I go away” and “I don’t know you half as well as all my friends” in perspective. While an interesting concept for a song, I wouldn’t consider this to be a memorable track, and definitely my least favorite closing track out of all of his albums. It lacks the emotional punch you get with his other album closers “From the Dining Table” and “Fine Line.”
It’s difficult to come up with a holistic evaluation of Harry’s House because I truly think this album spans the gauntlet of personal enjoyment for me. At its best, the album encapsulates simultaneous moods of carefree joy and deep introspection and, at its worst, it can be vapid and bland compared to his previous work. I have no idea where Harry’s musical career will take him next but whatever happens, I will be eagerly awaiting the next step in his evolution as an artist.
Erin Byerly can be reached at ebyerly@wesleyan.edu.