It wasn\u2019t until the second week of July last year that I started warming up to the idea of socializing with others. Until that time, I\u2019d spent the first four months of the pandemic at home, my daily dose of social interaction occurring nightly in my kitchen as my two roommates and I cooked and ate dinner together. After spending most of that week figuring out how and where to get Covid-tested, I made long-overdue plans with my friend Kevin. At that point, we hadn\u2019t seen each other in almost a year, a fact that added an extra layer of significance only heightened by the current circumstances. Kevin and I are both musicians, and music has been an integral part of our relationship for as long as we\u2019ve known each other. We\u2019re both also highly opinionated people, quick to pontificate and extoll the virtues or decry the defects of the current musical landscape. So naturally, after recapping every significant event in our lives over the previous year, the topic of music quickly dominated the conversation.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Speaking excitedly and with his typically candid demeanor, he eagerly brought up a new release that had come out just a couple of weeks prior and that he wanted me to hear: Haim\u2019s highly-anticipated third album Women in Music Pt. III. <\/i>I have to confess that, at first, I was a bit taken aback by his suggestion. Like many people my age, I was instantly hooked by the sultry synergy of hard-rock idioms and dance-forward sensibilities they deftly displayed in their 2013 debut Days Are Gone. <\/i>So much so that at the time of its release, I went from being a faithful tried-and-true rock apologist to an open-armed true-blue evangelist for millennial poptimism.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But it\u2019s also true that my faith in the trio and their gospel of the monogenre <\/i>had been shaken after their sophomore release, Something To Tell You, <\/i>in 2017. Having reached the sad conclusion that what I regarded as a cloyingly glossy, peppy, and corporate-friendly brand of ready-made pop wasn\u2019t going to satisfy my musical needs, I had long gone searching for newer artists willing to explore the possibilities of twenty-first-century pop-rock alchemy. After three years and many albums later, I knew that I was far from the glammy ersatz land of boutique-shop sounds where I\u2019d last seen the perky sisters from the San Fernando Valley. But unbeknownst to me, they were, too.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Before I go on, I want to point out that at the time that I\u2019m writing this, there are two versions of Women in Music Pt. III, <\/i>or Wimpiii<\/i>, in circulation. The first is the original sixteen-song double album released on June 26, 2020, on Columbia records. The second is an eighteen-track expanded version released February 18th of this year also on Columbia, and that includes remixes of two different tracks: one featuring recent Haim collaborator and social media bestie Taylor Swift and the other featuring neo-soul eccentric and studio partner Thundercat. As the saying goes: \u201cthe devil\u2019s in the details,\u201d and though at face value, the two versions appear as indistinguishable as a set of identical twins, a closer look reveals vastly different identities.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Let\u2019s start with the original.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Women In Music Pt. III <\/i>is without a doubt the Haim sisters\u2019 chef d\u2019oeuvre. An expansive, ambitious, explorative, and self-reflective album that comes at a time when the very notion of the album itself seems increasingly out of style. With this, I don\u2019t mean to say that artists and labels aren\u2019t busy churning out records. But when looking at data for music consumption over the last decade, it\u2019s easy to notice that the trends have steadily been tilting in favor of streaming platforms like Spotify or Apple Music. As a 32-year-old millennial who came of age in the late aughts and early 2010s, I\u2019m well aware that the rise of algorithmic streaming and playlists have been gradually chipping away at the cultural gravitas of the concept album. This has meant that a big part of what comprises a cohesive listening experience and gives each artist their identity <\/i>and sound <\/i>has been replaced by a seemingly heterogeneous collage-like product.<\/p>\n
Yet, it\u2019s this diversity of sound that\u2019s perhaps the most salient quality of WIMPIII. <\/i>In an age in which identity or character-based signifiers have become categorical imperatives- symbols meant to help us make sense of the world\u2019s inherent miscellaneousness, WIMPIII <\/i>is a rock album in the same way that Exile On Main St. <\/i>is a rock album: based on a categorical definition that\u2019s extensive enough to be irrevocably inclusive.\u00a0 A definition that stems from a studious understanding of aesthetics, of what it means to embody the animus behind rock music\u2019s existential purpose.\u00a0<\/p>\n
From its very beginnings, rock has been the steaming and bubbling cauldron into which artists have thrown select parts from other musical styles. Like its not-so-distant relative from the modern era, jazz, rock has always provided us with a vivid reflection of the country and the people that gave it birth. In keeping with the quintessentially American penchant for individual expression, it\u2019s been transgressive and subversive, two apt ways to describe Women In Music Pt. III.\u00a0<\/i>After all, what better way is there to upend the paternalistic notion that rock music only comes in one flavor and with a fixed retrograde sound than by embracing the lushness found across various genres, both past and present? And what better way to inject selfhood into the impersonal context of music streaming than by creating an album whose breadth reflects and echoes the complex mechanics of algorithm-derived playlists?\u00a0<\/p>\n
In WIMPIII<\/i>, Haim plumbs the depths of identity and self in ways that they hadn\u2019t before. They abandon the veneer of innocence and relative safety with which they were formerly, and unfairly, inextricably associated and bare themselves as flesh-and-bone human entities equally as unprepared to handle life\u2019s vicissitudes as the rest of us. Struggles with mental health and personal growth take center stage, as does having to cope with the trauma linked to personal loss.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Two of the album\u2019s first three singles \u2013 the deceptively-named, Lou Reed-inspired jazz-rocker \u201cSummer Girl\u201d and acoustic ballad \u201cHallelujah\u201d \u2013 tackle these issues head-on. The first was written by lead singer Danielle Haim as a confessional letter of support to her partner as he battled with cancer, while the second addresses the unexpected loss of guitarist Alana Haim\u2019s best friend years before. In both songs, the Haim sisters avail themselves of the powerful and soothing effects of harmony to underscore the necessity for closeness and its importance to the human condition.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Equally relatable is their depiction of depression, especially that which results from the tedium that characterizes isolation. As if they were personally writing for WIMPIII<\/i>\u2019s original audience in real-time, songs like the UK-garage-influenced and instant hipster-techno classic \u201cI Know Alone\u201d and the EDM-tinged heavy-rocker \u201cNow I\u2019m In It” delve into the frightening experience of disassociation that follows prolonged periods of seclusion. \u201cLooking in the mirror again and again \/ Wishing the reflection would tell me something\/I can’t get a hold of myself \/ I can’t get outta this situation\u201d laments Danielle as she struggles with depression so profuse that she\u2019s lost her grip on reality. She later complains that \u201cnights turn into days \/ That turn to gray \/ Keep turning over,\u201d and that \u201cSome things never change \/ They never fade \/ Some things never grow \/ I know alone like no one else does.\u201d I\u2019d be hard-pressed to find another example that so aptly limns the ennui that came to define our everyday realities for most of the last year.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But Haim doesn\u2019t just stop there. Instead, the group acknowledges deep personal dissatisfaction in \u201990s-rock throwback \u201cI\u2019ve Been Down,\u201d or in the sax-heavy and \u201cSummer Girl\u201d counterpart \u201cLos Angeles,\u201d and in the swaggering alt-rocker \u201cGasoline.\u201d They open up about the crippling effects of anxiety in the vibey and calypso-forward \u201cAnother Try,\u201d in the hard-stomping \u201cAll That Ever Mattered,\u201d and in the acoustic California folk-rocker \u201cLeaning On You.\u201d I should add that these last two songs showcase some exceptional guitar solos courtesy of Danielle Haim, as does the melancholy and bleak electro-grunge number \u201cFUBT.\u201d The trio also grapples with issues related to personal growth, particularly when consumed by a toxic relationship, as they do in the Grammy-nominated country twang rocker \u201cThe Steps.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
And as the album\u2019s title might suggest, Women In Music Part. III <\/i>openly confronts and rallies against the incontrovertible and lamentable conditions endured by women in an industry in which double standards, sexual harassment, and personal debasement resulting from gender discrimination appear as foundational pillars. Nowhere is this better elucidated than in the biting Joni Mitchell-esque protest song \u201cMan From The Magazine,\u201d in which Danielle Haim plaintively indicts members of the music press for being complicit in the misogyny and abuse that are so prevalent in the music industry, and sadly, most everywhere else. \u201cI don’t wanna hear \/ It is what it is \/ It was what it was,\u201d she sings defiantly before challenging her persecutor with disarming and caustic sincerity: \u201cYou expect me to deal with it \/ Til I’m perfectly numb \/ But you don’t know how it feels \/ To be the cunt.\u201d<\/p>\n
WIMPIII\u2019<\/i>s sole moment of levity comes early on in the prurient and comical R&B-styled \u201c3 AM,\u201d a celebration of late-night hookups that acquired a growing touch of nostalgia as the pandemic wore on. In many ways, it\u2019s hard to imagine this album being released into a world in which loneliness, anxiety, and monotony aren\u2019t the norm. It\u2019s equally difficult to imagine this Covid-19 world without it.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Earlier, I mentioned that there were currently two versions of Women In Music Pt. III <\/i>and that though similar on the surface, they were quite different in character. At the height of the first stay-at-home order last April, during a Zoom conversation, another friend referred to some well-known and pertinent words by the late German playwright Bertolt Brecht:\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cIn the dark times Art, like people, is the sum of disparate factors and variables coming together at singular moments in time. Experiences may not define us forever, but they do condition us in the short-run. What we do and how we do it varies depending on the circumstances, which is why sometimes, even the same routine might feel different depending on our disposition. In turn, our productive output resembles our present state of mind. WIMPIII <\/i>is no exception.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n In its original form, the album is the byproduct of a long and arduous period of soul-searching and self-discovery. It\u2019s a record conceived in darkness and fortuitously delivered into a world undergoing a similarly turbulent and challenging time. Like all great and legitimate art, it highlights the power of individual human strength and the virtues of survival. It underscores our need for closeness, compassion, and solidarity and the importance of collective long-term vision-all motifs that would have resonated even in times of normalcy but took on new significance during a global pandemic.\u00a0<\/p>\n The extended edition, on the other hand, is the product of re-emerging decadence and self-indulgence. It mirrors an increasingly relaxed nature in the face of a growing sense of comfort and a belief that better times lie right around the corner. It\u2019s the crepuscular song of early morning and the satisfaction of knowing you\u2019ve made it to a new day. In that sense, bringing in talented yet ultimately arbitrary artists like Swift or Thundercat can only signal a saccharine and superfluous endeavor. The fact that the new version of the album came out a month before the Grammys in which both Haim and Swift are competing for Album Of The Year reminds me that this is just a deliberate promotional gimmick.\u00a0<\/p>\n But I can\u2019t and won\u2019t blame the band because I\u2019m also reminded that art like people is universally prone to absurdity and self-sabotage — something that\u2019s particularly true of rock music. Because both are perpetually tethered to a condition outside of their control, beholden to the commandeering whims of nature and their DNA.\u00a0<\/p>\n If rock music has taught me anything, it\u2019s that art is the meeting place of longing and waiting and that an artist\u2019s best work occurs in the transit between what\u2019s predictable and unforeseen, between feeling and reality. As a whole, even after the additional two remixes, Women In Music Pt. III <\/i>occupies this hypnagogic state. It gives us the portrait of a band as they inhabit a dreamworld entirely of their own making, one from which they, like all of us, will have to awaken soon enough.\u00a0<\/p>\n To quote from their upbeat and surreal rocker \u201cUp From A Dream\u201d:\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cSomething you see wakes you up from the dream\/ God, what a difference time makes.\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":94,"featured_media":34267,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"tags":[],"artist":[10612],"rating":[5646],"class_list":["post-46101","review","type-review","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","artist-haim","rating-rating-a"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/review\/46101","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/review"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/review"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/94"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=46101"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/review\/46101\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/34267"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=46101"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=46101"},{"taxonomy":"artist","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/artist?post=46101"},{"taxonomy":"rating","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/rating?post=46101"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\n
Will there also be singing?
Yes, there will also be singing.
About the dark times.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n
Wanna go back to sleep but now\/ you’re up from the dream\/
Walk into the kitchen\u2026And you have changed in the blink of an eye.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n