Yungblud

His most confident, cohesive album.

Harrison has a knack for narrative and a snagging vocal that lifts potential mediocrity of this vibe into a warmer and more engaging experience. He’s at his best at his most British, when he channels the conversational intimacy of The Streets’ Mike Skinner.

Yungblud is a whirlwind listen, fusing together building blocks of various rock subgenres—mostly Britpop’s hip-shaking carnality and emo’s on-the-brink wails—then spit-shining them a bit before adding confessional lyrics.

Despite his relatively young age—he’s barely 25—he conveys a remarkable sense of self-awareness, and if he seems especially vulnerable on some of these songs (I love myself but that’s alright, he insists on the album opener “The Funeral”), one gets the sense that he’s speaking for others that imagine themselves in a similar scenario.

‘Yungblud’ has some of Harrison’s best tracks to date, but, as a whole, it’s not refined enough to be his magnum opus.

This may be billed as his serious opus, but clearly growing up is boring.

Opener The Funeral presents a far less cartoonish performer than he was on 2020's overly-cute second album Weird!. This alone makes the whole thing magnitudes more enjoyable. The energised electro-pop of Memories (a duet with WILLOW) and the brooding Sex Not Violence continue on a similar tack, showing a width of creative goalpost while actually keeping things together.

The songs are catchy, the emotions are sincere, and it is all driven by an intense desire to connect. But somehow Yungblud always sounds as if he’s trying too hard.

It does feel harsh to pick holes in a record that’s already so visibly bruised by criticism; where credit’s due, the home stretch is much, much stronger.

His latest album’s confident sonic step forward – Yungblud is still very much a work in progress.