Imagine the curtains open. The stage is dark and silent except for sounds of drizzling rain and the echoing clacks of heels on cobblestone. The air smells faintly of cigarette smoke and you can hear instruments shuffling as the performers get into position. Listening to RAYE's new album This Music May Contain Hope felt just like this. At 73 minutes total, RAYE takes us back to a time when art was enjoyed and absorbed at length. Genre-jumping and loaded lyrics invite listeners to really sit with her music and pay attention to its entirety, not just a catchy topline. It is clear RAYE is aiming to transform her “Oscar Winning Tears” into an album of Oscar-winning acclaim. From brassy big band pieces to mournful ballads comprising jazz, pop, soul, R&B and orchestra, This Music May Contain Hope certainly hopes to achieve a lot. In an Instagram post, RAYE illustrated how the track list is divided into seasons starting with autumn. This review will do the same.
Autumn
RAYE opens the album with a song that acts more like spoken word poetry. She directly welcomes listeners to the album and sets the scene with incredible visual imagery and accompaniment from the London Symphony Orchestra. You can almost feel a vintage filter falling over your eyes and the scratchy sound of old film reeling in the background. In “I Will Overcome,” these strengths prevail with evocative lyrics like “I feel syrup strands of blue moonlight pour through the clouds.” There are powerful messages about overcoming hardship, but since we are still in the autumn season, these are future affirmations that RAYE has yet to overcome, but pledges to do so. The consistent genre and sweeping orchestra culminate in a highly satisfying way, from which later genre-shifting songs drift.
“Beware…The South London Lover Boy” and “The WhatsApp Shakespeare” are quite similar to me. Both are upbeat, brass heavy, poppy songs with jazz undertones. Both make lighthearted fun that turns tragedy into a spectacle worthy of a theater. That being said, I really did not enjoy the big band shift at the end of “WhatsApp Shakespeare.” I can see how it may be praised as a way to keep listeners engaged and spit in the face of predictability. However, it did not really work for me as a jazz hater (sorry).
Winter
My two favorite seasons in real life are autumn and winter. They just so happen to be my favorite seasons on RAYE’s album too. My favorite song of the entire album is “Winter Woman,” aptly the first track of the winter season. This is one of the only songs where I immensely enjoyed the changes in tempo, beat and genre. There is soulful imagery that flows into R&B rhythms, then spoken word, and back to lyrical, and even samples from Vivaldi's Winter! She also employs sibilance in this song as well as a few others with lyrics like “She hides her scars under silk / Presses and crimson dresses.” RAYE is able to control her voice so well, choosing when to enunciate, how to shape certain words and when to blur others depending on what the beat requires. This makes the listening experience very robust and satisfying. She also uses repetition of phrases throughout the album such as “life goes on, life goes on” in “Winter Woman” and “he romanced on me, on me, on me” in “WhatsApp Shakespeare.” These lines often help establish rhythm and highlight beats that snare the listener.
Of course we have to talk about the single “Click Clack Symphony” that features Hans Zimmer. RAYE opens by lamenting, “Did you know the odds to be born on this Earth's one in four hundred trillion? / I conquered those odds, yet I can't conquer leaving this house.” The thread connecting the winter tracks seems to be a cold, blanketing darkness enveloping RAYE’s life and leaving her numb. She has hope for the future, but must first fight the battles that come with depression — namely getting out of the house. I also loved the use of heel sound effects in this song. Along with orchestral backing, sound effects like laughing, thunder and heel clacks in different songs add even more depth. With Hans Zimmer on “Click Clack Symphony,” the orchestral element is especially strong and the finale was positively stunning, warming my musician heart.
Spring & Summer
I grouped the spring and summer tracks together because I felt the last half of the album to not be as strong (with the exception of “Skin & Bones”). These later songs started to meld together in my mind like watercolors. What stood out in this section was RAYE’s vocals. All throughout the album, RAYE displays incredible vocal prowess from delicate tongue-twisters, to belting highnotes, to lilting velvet melodies and jazzy vibrato — RAYE can do it all masterfully.
In these seasons of the track RAYE feels stronger about herself, she knows who she is and what she is worth — “happier times” have found her. In “Joy” she notes “Your sorrows may endure / But the light comes with the morning” which is a very hopeful take that does not neglect how mental illness often remains in dark corners even when one is better. RAYE is unabashedly real — both glitzy and gritty.
Fin
Overall, yes, the album is a bit of a circus, but with RAYE as the ringleader it promises to reward those who take their time and listen with intent. The album is very clearly a journey, but there is a common thread — hope. It is a powerful message to people of all ages who have fought with pain or mental illness that you must always hold on to hope, even if you do not believe yourself in the moment. This sounds simple, but can be one of the hardest things on earth. If this resonantes with you, maybe give the album a listen and remember “The cold never lasts, my darling / It just teaches the heart how to burn.”
Ayla Kruse Lawson is a member of the Class of 2027 in the College of Human Ecology. She is a staff writer for the Arts & Culture department and can be reached at akruselawson@cornellsun.com.
