Scarlet

Doja Cat is just what the world needs today. A sharp knife to cut through the blizzard of sounds and styles out there. But at the same time a fiery party, something you can witness from the solar system. With the blazing soundtrack to accompany it.

It combines all of Doja’s past lives with some more heavy-hitting punchlines. It feels like a stark departure from her previous commercial efforts, while still showcasing some clear hits like “Paint The Town Red”, “Gun”, “Go Off”

At various points across the album, Doja Cat channels her predecessors. There’s a gorgeous D’Angelo croon to “Often” and on the punchy “Demons”, she emulates Kendrick Lamar’s silky, dangerous tones. Notably, though, there are zero features on this record. Scarlet holds up all on its own.

She can often sound like the guest rapper on her own songs, which is why she doesn’t really need the collaborations that some emcees rely upon. But there’s no denying the clear star power on display throughout “Scarlet”, an album that is her most direct, and shows that a pissed-off rapper that has something to get off of their chest, often results in their best work.

Cheeky, idiosyncratic and sometimes great.

Scarlet is an album worth hearing but not listening to. It’s still arguably Doja’s most gripping body of work to date because it sounds amazing, but it lacks the integrality to secure a legacy.

Chock-full of brusque rhymes that, even with occasional respite with the odd slow jam, become mind-numbing over the course of its hour-long duration, Scarlet is a fascinating follow-up to Planet Her.

The chilled, languorous template delivers on value, but offers little else and you can’t help but feel like these are unnecessary filler tracks. At its core, ‘Scarlet’ is an interesting exploration into the world of ego trips, the trappings of fame, escapism and novelty, a welcome deviation with a heightened sense of maturity and finesse.

It all adds up to an overlong, slightly repetitive but ultimately compelling album of two halves.

The desire to offload and flaunt her current relationship at length means Scarlet loses the snappy brevity that was Planet Her’s calling-card. After a while, you feel that points that have already been made are being reiterated, and a long album is made to seem longer still by its weird structure, a glut of slower and more abstract tracks taking up most of its second half.

Scarlet should be a madhouse but instead it’s like a trip to the rap clinic waiting room.