by David Wilikofsky
The period of time between All the Time and Jessy Lanza’s previous album, 2016’s Oh No, was one of personal change. Following the release of that album, Lanza left her hometown of Hamilton, Ontario for New York, leaving behind her longtime creative partner Jeremy Greenspan. In the intervening years, the two slowly worked long distance on the tracks that came to make up All the Time. This new mode of working may help explain the length of time between albums, but I’m happy to report the resulting music easily stands up against Lanza’s best work.
All the Time album is being touted as “the most pure set of pop songs” Lanza and Greenspan have recorded. While it is undeniable that this is an album full of earworms, that description glosses over the inherent strangeness of the sounds that compose those tunes. Tracks are built upon layers of glitches, yet the end result feels smooth as silk. Look no further than “Face”, one of the lead singles for the album, as a prime example of this approach. Beneath Lanza’s vocals and a driving rhythm is a constantly burbling stream of sounds. Whether bubbles, squiggles or bleeps, those sounds dwell below the surface without drawing undue attention to themselves. It’s an impressive trick that Lanza and Greenspan pull off throughout the album; while it may be true that the album is their pop statement, the duo have warped it into something far more unique and interesting than standard pop leaning fare.
Much of the album was written and recorded well before COVID-19 hit, but it still feels particularly timely. It is less an album of club bangers and more a set of songs to soundtrack impromptu solo dance parties. “Lick in Heaven” feels like it is building towards some big moment but instead leads to a fragilely beautiful chorus (which brings to mind this Sally Shapiro classic) that dissolves into nothing. The rest of the songs follow suit, culminating in small moments of release rather than grandiose climaxes. Her lyrics match the scale of the instrumentals, framing everything in starkly personal terms. “Lick In Heaven”, despite that woozy upbeat melody, is a song about losing control. It’s chorus of “I can’t stop spinning” interrogates that abstract feeling via physical sensation. Lanza coos sweet nothings on “Badly”, whose chorus of “(I) do want you badly” exudes longing. “Alexander” poses the question “Would you rather be lonely?”, more a reality than a choice during COVID. As a whole, this is music perfectly tailored to the scale of life in the age of quarantine.
Lanza was putting the finishing touches on the album just before the pandemic hit. It forced her to cancel a European tour, pack up her New York apartment and drive cross country to stay near family in San Francisco. It’s unfortunate that Lanza needed to make those personal decisions and upend her life, but if this album proves anything it’s that change has led to some of her best work. Personally, I can’t wait to see what she does next.