Radical Optimism

Deeper in the tracklist more variety emerges, featuring emotions and sounds that most listeners will have never heard from Dua.

In tandem with Danny L. Harle, known for inventing the new personal genre called harlecore, and collaborations with Caroline Polachek and Charli XCX, Dua Lipa and Parker made Radical Optimism sound extremely lush and slick but raw and fresh.

This is an album that, as with previous Lipa outings, preaches agency and self-worth; her high bar for distilling past dance forms into present pop bangers is maintained, whatever the spin.

“Optimism” is pummeling, concerted and arranged exactly how it should be, a pop record meant to wash over you like a breeze rolling off of the surf.

It’s an album of nonstop ear candy.

Despite their short runtimes, though, many of these songs still pack an undeniable punch, thanks in large part to Parker and Harle’s meticulous production.

Lipa’s cooly commanding voice holds the attention on expansive melodies that make the most of her range, flowing between rich low tones, a husky middle and sweet highs. It is precise, luxurious, energetic without ever really breaking a sweat.

Lipa’s music, when it’s at its best, can be as interesting as it is fun; so while Radical Optimism might not be quite as radical as one might have hoped, Lipa’s story is far from over. She’s ready to soak up the sun and dance, and the path is laid for us to join her, if we so choose.

An easygoing grower that digs deeper with each successive listen, Radical Optimism doesn't need to be Future Nostalgia 2.0; it's the sound of an artist enjoying life and exploring new directions as she continues to hone her craft.

Can a pop album succeed without functioning as a referendum on fame or as a work of musicology? Is it enough just to deliver a bunch of loosely connected bangers and bops? At its best, “Radical Optimism” answers yes — or at least makes you want the answer to be yes. Lipa has style and attitude to spare; her singing is sly, throaty, slightly Bond-girl conspiratorial.

On her hugely-anticipated third, there’s plenty of sun-drenched sonic optimism but not so much that’s all that radical.

There are a lot of great ideas, but those ideas don’t necessarily translate into greatness, largely because the album feels a bit drowned in its own creative progression. .... I can say, however, that tThere are a lot of individual moments on Radical Optimism that are lovely to listen to, and—despite my qualms—it’s definitely worth a spin.

Considering the pedigree of its personnel, Radical Optimism is oddly incoherent. The absence of Future Nostalgia’s many topline writers is notable both in the lack of ironclad melodies and unfamiliarity with how to handle Lipa’s vocal weaponry.

You see parts of what should be interesting music throughout, but Radical Optimism seems more interested in never failing to be good than in succeeding at all at being excellent.

Radical Optimism appears more as a series of vignettes than a fully fleshed-out record.

Ultimately, what you at times get is a watered-down version of Future Nostalgia, a record that feels adrift — even from Lipa herself. We didn’t expect her to cover Blur’s “Tender,” or drop her own line of lava lamps, but we were hoping for something a little more distinct.

The album’s beachy vibes feel suited to a festival field’s carefree disposition. You just wish there was a little more to these songs.

It’s hard not to feel like the lead singles live in their own sonic universe. The remaining album tracks, while lyrically co-ordinated, lack sonic cohesion.

Radical Optimism lacks a unique personality as a result – particularly compared with the vivid writing of her peers. It’s a well-made album with mass appeal and, of course, there’s no law that pop music has to be deep. But the adjective in its title certainly doesn’t belong.