Lizzy McAlpine’s “Older (and Wiser)” is like watching yourself go through a bad situationship and then coming out on the other side. It’s gut-wrenching and guilty and longing all at once.
And it’s been ruining my mood since it came out because every time I listen to it, I lose my mind a little bit more.
I normally separate my music by either overall vibe or by lyricism — sometimes, a song just feels and sounds good. Other times, like with Kendrick Lamar or Searows, I am listening for the lyrical aspect, to be moved by words and not just sound. To me, few songs can be both — one aspect always overpowers the other. Originally, I categorized McAlpine’s album as just a deeply depressing vibe. A lot of the songs sounded the same, and then I actually listened to the lyrics and quickly changed my initial opinion of the album from an appreciation to a deep, deep love.
Even though I typically only like a few tracks on an album, I love every single song on “Older (and Wiser).” The opening track, “The Elevator,” sets the tone perfectly. The bright piano sets the light and tentative intimacy of beginning a relationship. “I didn’t know the half of it,” McAlpine sings, “And suddenly I had everything to lose.” The instrumental swells alongside strings, and the percussion picks up, encapsulating the feeling of suddenly falling impossibly in love with someone.
The second track, “Come Down Soon,” is one of my favorites from the album. Despite the upbeat feel and happy instrumentation, McAlpine’s words show she is just waiting for the shoe to drop in the happiness of her relationship, singing “It’ll come down soon, nothing this good ever lasts this long for me.” In the first verse, she remarks on how well her partner knows her — walking her to the door — but contradicts herself in the second verse when he offers her a cigarette and she has to remind him that she doesn’t smoke. The imperfect nature of their relationship shines through the cracks of her lyricism, and the light and loving track backs them.
Moving on, track eight, “Staying,” is the song for avoidant attachment folks. McAlpine talks about her partner relapsing in their alcohol addiction, saying, “Caught you in bed with a Red Bull vodka,” after her partner had declared themselves sober just two weeks earlier. Worse, McAlpine watches as the people around her do nothing to stop her partner — nobody helping when he “breaks [his] leg drunk running.” She worries if it was her fault, the stress of their relationship pushing her partner towards relapse. “Nobody takes you from my hand,” she sings, showing how she feels she is leading her partner towards his relapse, and at the same time, he is her alcohol and her addiction. Similar to the first verse, she says “no one takes it from your hand,” in reference to the Red Bull vodka that her partner drinks. She can’t stop loving him, even though she knows she isn’t good for him. The whole song, McAlpine sings in a soft, heartbroken tone. Her voice is insanely emotionally driven.
Skipping to the 14th track and closing track of the standard album, “Vortex” is the spiralling nature of their relationship, constantly spinning between being amazing together and being horrible together. “One day, I’ll be able to let you go,” McAlpine sings. The song starts gently, like she is thinking about how their relationship could have reached this point of toxicity. But it builds, and she explodes with emotion — “I’m slamming the door, and you make yourself tall, but it’s always an act and I always come back when I need a new song.” She can’t escape the way he makes her feel, and she can’t help but feel drawn back to him. It continues to swell into an instrumental, with an electric guitar and backing vocals that ends the album in a heartfelt and grieving crescendo.
The last song I want to talk about is the first of the extended songs, “Method Acting (Demo).” The other songs, like “Pushing It Down and Praying” and “Spring into Summer,” have garnered an earned amount of attention, but “Method Acting (Demo)” holds a special place in my heart. I couldn’t be more grateful to McAlpine for releasing this as a demo instead of a fully finished production. The lack of finished vocals alongside the solo strumming of her acoustic guitar gives the track a more emotionally vulnerable feel. “I don’t know why but you’ll forgive me, and I’ll take that to my grave” is gut-wrenching, and the way McAlpine sings it — deep and raw with sadness, her vocals wavering just slightly out of key — makes it the most emotionally impactful song on the entire album.
Though other fans can’t help but want to gatekeep Lizzy McAlpine’s outstanding lyricism and vocals, I need someone to talk to about this album and just how moving it is. Lizzy McAlpine is one of the most emotional singers I’ve ever listened to — the way her vocals can portray an insane depth of emotion is inimitable. I’m unable to listen to a single song from this album ever — it has to be the entire thing every single time. “Older (and Wiser)” is unquestionably one of my favorite albums of all time.