Electronic-enhanced, rarely artificial vocals. Sultry, sweet, and simple lyrics. Pulsing basslines. A cohesive narrative that skims—without plunging into—emotional depths.
Demi Lovato, to my slight surprise, is delivering above and beyond.
In Lovato’s most recent album, It’s Not That Deep, she offers 11 tracks that are refreshingly easy to sing and dance along to (yes, I did test dance-ability while preparing this review). Lovato succeeds in transcending her past creative work through luminous sounds and lightweight storytelling.
Admittedly, when Lovato first released her hyperpop album singles—“Fast,” “Here All Night,” and “Kiss”—I did immediately wonder if the rest of her album would fall victim to the trend of over-production evident in recent pop albums like Charli xcx’s BRAT or Lady Gaga’s Chromatica, which I’ve mostly found to be suffocating.
Yet, Lovato thrives in the dance-pop genre, because her rich vocals pierce through synthetic tones and beats; she doesn’t require filtering to sound like a Grammy-nominated singer. And though Lovato traditionally tends toward punk, pop, and R&B sounds, her ever-powerful voice introduces an essential grittiness to the slippery, stylized vocals common in electronic styles.
Lovato also evolves from the heavy storytelling strategy of her past work. Even as a diehard Lovatic, I admit that the power ballads of her two most recent albums Dancing with the Devil and HOLY FVCK were hard to listen to. Lovato dropped graphic details about her substance abuse, abusive relationships, a near-fatal overdose, and identifying as a piece of bloody meat. Lovato’s lyricism was vulnerable and brave—but dark.
On It’s Not That Deep, life is brighter: Lovato dedicates the album to (sober) partying, getting over heartbreak, and falling into a love with “somebody who can match [her] frequency,” as she chants in “Frequency.”
In other words, if “Dancing with the Devil” and “HOLY FVCK” are haunted houses jailing Lovato’s worst demons, “It’s Not That Deep” is a disco club to celebrate—but not erase—overcoming unimaginable pain.
Initially, I wondered if the lyrics were too repetitive and unpoetic. Lovato sings “f*ck up the vibe” 27 times on “Frequency,” works in the phrase “a little bit” 25 times in “Little Bit,” and talk-sings “Li-li-li-like what? / Li-li-li-like this” eight times in “Kiss.”
But the more I listened, the more I grew to appreciate Lovato’s phrasing. An album titled “It’s Not That Deep” can rightly contain more shallow and sensual lyrics, and they reinforce the easy listening experience.
The songs feel fast and focused, and almost every one is less than three minutes long. The brevity is persuasive: even if there are a million issues in Lovato’s life—in my life—surely, we can take a pause from our stressors and “talk a little bit, touch a little bit, move a little bit.” Doses of fun are not superficial but essential to protecting our peace.
Noticeably long and unique to this album is “Ghost,” a stunning song that satisfies my annual craving for a Demi Lovato power ballad. Lovato slows it down for the album’s last track, and she sings serenely to her lover: “I hope we’re falling for eternity.” Lovato has a newfound fear of outliving her just-married husband, Canadian singer Jutes, but she knows that the couple’s love will transcend dimensions: “I hope you flicker the lights / And send a chill down my spine, so cold / Wanna be haunted for life by your ghost.” Honestly, I will be haunted by these delicate, poignant lyrics for a lifetime.
I am floored by Lovato’s beautiful, experimental sonic storytelling. Though the name suggests otherwise, It’s Not That Deep just may be Lovato’s most profound album yet. She is acutely aware—not ignorant—that the public has watched her repeatedly spiral into depression and disorder. And yet, she loves loudly and parties joyfully, lighting a fuse for the future of her artistry and reputation.
