After a tumultuous year battling lupus and T-cell disorder, Halsey released what she believed would be “the last album she ever made.” A confessional concept album, “The Great Impersonator” is predicated on the inspiration she gained from the 1980s up to the 2010s. Some of her experiments, such as the ’70s-inspired “The End,” fit perfectly into her narrative, and others focus on her writing abilities.
In the promotional cycle for this record, Halsey posed as 18 different musical icons that she says inspired the record. The concept is strong, as female musicians have commonly used forced reinvention as a critique of the music industry, such as Taylor Swift’s song “mirrorball.” The expectations for women to constantly reinvent themselves are being embraced and simultaneously shut down in this album.
The music lives up to its high concept about 80 percent of the time. “Only Living Girl in LA” is a slow start, droning on for six minutes. The lyrics are particularly on the nose when it comes to Halsey’s life: “I told my mother I would die by twenty-seven / And in a way I sort of did.” Through her writing, Halsey creates an intimate discomfort, sharing confessions that feel almost too personal to hear. And I can’t blame her for this — a life-altering health crisis inevitably seeps into any artist’s work, coloring every aspect of their daily existence.
After a metaphorical opening, Halsey forces her own life story down your throat. The twangy “Hometown” fits right into her narrative. There’s a strong hook with an impressive lyrical story to follow: The titular “hometown” is Warren Hills, N.J., which is 10 minutes from my hometown. I can say with full certainty that it perfectly captures the problems of suburban New Jersey, and while I may be biased, it was an incredible track.
Combined with the set of “Letter to God” songs, which anchor the album, we get informed on some Halsey mythos. “Letter to God (1998)” is one of the most beautiful songs I’ve heard from a pop artist and, being one of the last tracks, effectively summarizes the record. It forces you to view the album in the context of Halsey, pushing against the artist’s typical mission to have audiences listen from a different perspective. In this record, Halsey draws from the music of other artists like PJ Harvey (“Dog Years”) and David Bowie (“Darwinism”), but lyrically it’s a personal effort.
But it can be a lot sometimes. “Life of the Spider (Draft)” is clearly a first draft that explores her sadness through sickness. While certainly impactful, it is an unpleasant listen. Aptly labeled as a draft, the song is extremely raw, adding to the album’s vulnerability, but remains clearly unfinished despite its self-awareness.
Covering topics of familial abuse, sickness, motherhood and religion, Halsey is angry this time around. “I Believe in Magic” is particularly stripped down, featuring voice memos of her son. Gone is the dark, electro-pop production of her early albums; in comes Halsey’s emphasis on lyrical construction and honesty. The metaphors used are easy to understand, and work well in songs like “I Never Loved You” with couplets like “‘She had a hole in her heart / But it wasn’t her fault, it was there from the start.’”
But this isn’t to say the record is perfect. With so much experimentation in different genres, some are bound to fall flat. “Hurt Feelings” attempts to have a strong melody, but it comes off as weak and forgettable. The production is muddled and the song doesn’t build whatsoever. And though inspired by Fiona Apple, “Arsonist” feels like a rehash of Halsey’s worst tendencies, now delivered with a whispery affectation reminiscent of Billie Eilish.
However, when Halsey experiments, she blows things out of the water. “Lonely is the Muse” is the greatest song she’s had since 2015’s “Colors.” Lyrically, it’s a blazing takedown of the modern music industry. It fits Halsey’s voice perfectly, making me question why she hasn’t leaned more towards rock in the past. Her voice can be alienating, with a cursive style similar to Dolores O’Riordan of the Cranberries.
Hard rock fits her well, and this album does a good job of proving how versatile Halsey can be. She can still kill a pop-rock tune like “Ego,” a folk-pop tune like “Panic Attack,” and a bubblegum-pop song like “Lucky.” The third of these samples is the Britney Spears song of the same name, drawing a thread between the most famous example of a criticized pop star and Halsey herself. It’s an enjoyable listen, and all of the pop-leaning tunes will give you a great earworm that sticks around.
Halsey experiments and tries out different styles, some of which work better than others. We can see the strength of Halsey’s artistry, especially in her writing, as she creates thematic threads throughout every song. Even though it revolves around impersonations, “The Great Impersonator” is Halsey’s most personal record to date.
