Sam Smith on the cover of his latest album, “Gloria”
Five-time Grammy winner Sam Smith has long been known for delivering soulful, heart-wrenching ballads that have helped define the R&B and pop genres. But after three albums, the said style had become all too boring—it was clear that a change was needed.
With “Gloria,” Smith has managed to break free from the mold, delivering an album that signals a musical rebirth of sort, a wild, wide-ranging collection that pushes boundaries and evinces their (the pronoun the British singer prefers) growth as an artist.
From glorious anthems to introspective ballads, the album showcases Smith’s versatility as a vocalist, with their distinctive voice taking center stage. Smith delivers well on every song with cutting vocals. But “Gloria” isn’t just a compilation of ballads, so there was much to be expected from its storytelling, lyricism and production.
Desire to push boundaries
While the album isn’t on the bleeding edge of experimentation, its unique blend of hyperpop, R&B, dancehall and other genres reflects Smith’s desire to push boundaries and subvert expectations, offering a glimpse into the artist’s self-expression. For first-time listeners, in fact, the genre change at every turn might be enough to give them a whiplash.
“Gloria” opens with “Love Me More,” a gospel-inspired self-care song that sets the tone for the album’s empowering yet sometimes dark themes. The journey continues with three R&B-infused tracks, including the sultry duet “Perfect” with Jessie Reyez.
The album then shifts gears with the raucous pop-dance track “Unholy,” a duet with Kim Petras that shallowly explores sexuality.The mood changes with the acoustic ballad “How to Cry,” followed by the slow jam “Six Shot” and the electrifying single “Gimme.” The album reaches a climax with “I’m Not Here to Make Friends,” a collaboration with Reyez and Calvin Harris.
Despite its celebratory energy, “Gloria” is not without its moments of introspection. The hymn-like title track features just a choir, until Smith’s soaring vocals enter, delivering a message of empowerment and spiritual renewal.
The album then closes with “We Love Who We Love,” a gentle duet with Ed Sheeran that leaves listeners with a moving message of love and acceptance.
Lyrically speaking, the collection is awash with cliché and boring lines, like those in “Unholy,” about cheating and getting hot in a body shop. It feels as though Smith is tiptoeing around queer identity and sexuality, instead of fully embracing it.
From the get-go, it feels like so much of the album has been cut. Whether this was a move to make sure that the music would still be palatable to mainstream listeners or perhaps there was merely a lack of gusto and bravado, no one will ever know.
Genre shifts
With only 13 songs, two of which are interludes, the album runs relatively short at 33 minutes. However, it is not an easy listen, even though it is a short one because of the genre shifts that feel more like it has been done just for the sake of doing it, instead of serving a narrative or pulling everything into one cohesive theme.
The album’s strongest moments come from its club-suitable tracks, with pulsing anthems like “Lose You” and a sultry spin on alcohol metaphors in “Six Shot.” But it is Smith’s collaborations with Canadian singer-songwriter Jessie Reyez and the closing duet with Ed Sheeran that leave much to be desired.
Production-wise, there was nothing special about the album; generic synths and the instrumentation feel as though they have been pulled out of context without the historical reference behind it.
For an album that celebrates queer identity, this body of work just beats around the bush surrounding its queer narratives, but doing so makes it lose its soul.
Despite some of the collaborations falling short, generic lyrics and overdone production, the album as a whole nonetheless showcases Smith’s evolution. It may not be the paradigm shift that some fans might have hoped for, but “Gloria” still serves as a testament to Smith’s versatility as an artist.