Album Review: Plastic Hearts by Miley Cyrus
Miley Cyrus’s new album explores fame and independence through the voice of a 70s rock-chick, and revisits the wildness of her career.
Source: Wikimedia Commons
Miley Cyrus’s new album “Plastic Hearts” has undeniable bad girl energy, infused with an off-the-rails, doesn’t-give-a-damn, I-don’t-need-no-man attitude. Despite this, there’s an underlying sensitivity amongst her reflections on fame. In her attempt to become a rock ‘n’ roll star, however, Miley’s album lacks something and fails to bring the 70s style she mimics into the 2020s.
In collaborating with artists such as Joan Jett, Stevie Nicks and Billy Idol, Miley makes herself very clear – this album is an homage to the classic rock stars she idolises. Miley emulates all the characteristics of 70s punk: a lack of respect for norms of the music industry (and society), distorted guitars, synth keyboards, sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. In our digital age of PC culture, where everyone’s actions are on our screens in a moment, Miley seems to be commenting on the prudishness of pop today in comparison to the freedom of rock stars back in the day. By working on “Prisoner” with Dua Lipa, who is the modern face of “dark” or alternative pop, Miley confirms that she’s attempting to do something different, and break away from the strict boundaries of today’s pop culture.
This album really is the product of a femme fatale: an empowered woman who knows exactly what she wants. In her single “Midnight Sky,” she emphatically sings “I don’t need to be loved by you,” echoing the sentiments of her first track “WTF Do I Know” where she reflects on her engagement to Liam Hemsworth, to whom she was “maybe getting married just to cause a distraction.” There’s no denying this is an album for the independent woman, who knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid of that.
In between these hard, upbeat, dance songs, she has some sentimental, softer, power ballads. “Never Be Me” is an open and honest why-it-all-went-wrong song that is truly heartbreaking. “High” seems to take her back to her Nashville roots with a soft acoustic guitar. These songs don’t feel disjointed from the rest of the album; for example, her lyric “like a rolling stone” in “High” is a clear reference to Bob Dylan, and “Angels Like You” shares themes of self-partnership, and acceptance of not wanting a traditional relationship.
Source: flickr
However, I’m not sure Miley succeeds in pulling this 70s style into the modern era. When she covers Blondie’s “Heart of Glass” it feels like karaoke – where is the new point of view? It is simply a copy, except without Blondie’s classic ethereal voice that makes the song so special. The vocal fry Miley adopts in this album does make her sound like a rock star, and it would have been cool if we were in the 70s or 80s, but in the 2020s it feels a little out of touch. It makes it feel like a washed-up rock star is trying to relive their youth and the good old days. Unlike the release of “Bangerz,” which really shook the music industry, this album doesn’t shock – there’s nothing new here. It’s as if Miley is trying to recreate the impact that she had in 2012, where she really found her sound, and herself. In a search for her identity, she mimics these rock ‘n’ roll stars that share this same out-of-control stance. Instead of bringing this attitude to the modern age, she allows the album to remain a copy of the music that defined the punk era.
Regardless, I find myself intrigued by these songs which move away from her usual pop style. She finishes the album (before the live covers) with “Golden G-String,” which explores the publicity stunt that was “Bangerz,” the success it received and what it meant to her, but more broadly her relationship with fame. “Plastic Hearts” is a raw, reckless, racy replica that I can’t seem to stop listening to.