Written by Gabrielle Sangataldo
Indigo De Souza’s music has always been rough around the edges, in a way that exudes vulnerability, rawness, and an undeniable grit. Songs like “What Are We Gonna Do Now” from her 2018 release I Love My Mom and “Always” from 2023’s All of This Will End are almost uncomfortable from how deep they resonate, forcing the listener to grapple with their own emotions in addition to De Souza’s.
Though her sound has stayed consistent through the last decade or so, each album still made a name for itself and focused on a sound palette. Her latest album Precipice, released on July 25, is less a musical risk as the name would suggest, however, and more a safety cord tethered to mainstream music.
In the first song, “Be My Love,” leads the listener in a vague direction of where the album will head. De Souza repeats the phrase, “This is not the end,” while the supporting instrumental sounds like a culmination point of the album. It’s undoubtedly a melancholy way to kick things off, a vibe that De Souza excels at.
This, though, exhibits where the similarities between this and her previous works begins and ends.
In this latest release, her vocals contain a fullness and roundness to them absent in previous albums. Sound maturity, however, isn’t what comes to mind when listening to Precipice. Where she sings frayed and almost desperately in the past, like her vocals are being compelled out of her, her voice now is almost holding back. While she croons “I swear / I really haven’t changed,” in the album’s second song “Crying Over Nothing,” her sound begs to differ. Rather than listening like a natural progression of her art, Precipice could pass as De Souza trying on a skin that doesn’t quite fit.
From just the first few tracks, it’s clear that this album serves as De Souza’s personal rendition of Paramore’s After Laughter, in the sense that both deviate from the artists’ normal sound and disguise heartbreakingly tender lyrics with synth and dance-inducing beats. A stark contrast from that of After Laughter and Precipice, however, is the consistency that the latter needs. Where After Laughter demonstrates that rock bands can also pull off pop effortlessly, Precipice fails at an attempt to be mainstream. The third track “Crush” serves as the epitome to this statement. The simplistic chorus “Ooh / I think I got a crush / on you,” cushioned by a dreamy vocal overlay and plain backing beat, could do well as a viral sound on TikTok — if that’s all that De Souza aimed for.
De Souza returns to her roots in the sixth track “Heartthrob,” boasting the edge that accompanied much of her previous discography. Her vocals stretch and reach for notes, losing the polished sound in the other songs on the album. In an effort to be real throughout Precipice, she ironically sounds the most authentic when she’s not trying. This inconsistency whips the listener back and forth, either demonstrating that they’re not prepared for the bumpy ride or that De Souza can’t decide on one aesthetic.
The closing songs—“Pass It By” and the titular “Precipice”—bleed into each other lacklusterly, not intentionally, but in the way that they could pass for the same song. Despite “Precipice” swelling to a climax, it doesn’t set itself apart from the other swishy instrumentals on the rest of the album, a rut that De Souza fell into somewhere around the opening tracks.
Overall, Precipice lacks the backbone and punch that songs like “Wasting Your Time” from All of This Will End oozed. And this is not to say artists can’t grow and evolve—obviously, they can and should. Previous albums by De Souza proved this is possible by incorporating varying sound elements, such as synthetic beats, in a manner that flowed. In other words, De Souza knows how to effectively expand her genre while keeping her authenticity. Precipice didn’t just let this notion down—it threw it off of the cliff.
