Social media is full of tips, tricks and suggestions for how to expand your horizons during quarantine and be productive creatively. Sourdough starters, daily writing prompts, guided meditations and so on. But few have gone as far as Charli XCX to set an example of what can be produced in this time of self-isolation.

In just under 40 days, XCX managed to pull together a stunning 11-track album. The album, titled “How I’m Feeling Now,” explores her relationship through these circumstances we are experiencing as a society and her personal struggles with isolation. For a star well-known for her emotional bangers, it is probably her most personal work so far.

Not only did she manage to write these deeply personal songs, she also took a further step of vulnerability and opened up her creative process. She created an email to be sent beats by producers around the world. She wrote lyrics on Instagram Live. She talked about her process with celebrities on various Zoom hangouts. She played in progress demos on her Beats1 radio show. It was a true experience for fans that is basically unprecedented for a major label artist, but could set a new promotional path for artists like Beyonce’s self-titled album did.

“How I’m Feeling Now” is an album that plants itself right in front of your face and then lets loose. The album opens with the dark club track “Pink Diamond.” Built on a track produced by R&B artist and producer Dijon, the song is about craving the energy of clubbing but being restricted to the experience via video chat. And while Club Quarantine is super fun, it is nowhere near the same. It is a song about that simple feeling of being.

This theme is a recurring subject on the album. It is part of “c2.0” which is a rework of “Click” from her last album. It is also the central message of the penultimate track, “Anthems.” It’s a stuttering electronic track that comes near the end of the album and rockets the final act energy through the roof.  “Anthems” is probably the best expression of the theme with verses that capture the mundanity of isolation and the escapism that normal life provides that we have not fully appreciated until now. The lyrics are relatable and a time capsule of what this experience has been like.

The other part of the album is Charli XCX exploring her relationship in this new context. She has been with her partner for many years, but due to the nature of their work a lot of that time has been long distance. However, in this time they have been brought together more than they’ve had before.

The songs explore what this new physical proximity has brought forth emotionally, and for XCX’s part it seems like mostly an affirmation. The album’s lead single (yes, she somehow found time to release singles while scrambling to get the album finished in her short deadline) “Forever” is a ballad about this commitment. In the song, she assures him that even if this relationship doesn’t make it all the way, she will still carry this love for him.

She revisits this in “7 Years,” one of the first songs made for the album. In the chorus she  sings “I know that look inside my eyes means always / Even if we fall apart, split two ways / Used to be afraid to say it, that’s so strange / Seven years and it’s been you and I, always.” These emotional revelations are all the product of this time in isolation, and you can feel XCX learning and growing through the albums.

On the flipside of this is “Claws,” a sweetly carefree track full of unabashed adoration. It is a catchy track about being so over the moon for someone. Tracks like this one help keep the album lighthearted.

“How I’m Feeling Now” is a truly impressive feat for XCX. It easily could have been a disaster to set that time limit on her creativity. It could have easily been a sad, emotional body of work to fit the desperation of these times. But, this album hits all the right marks and gives us an optimistic energy that we need right now. It is a fun album that will have a life outside of these weird times.

On “I’m Your Empress Of,” Lorely Rodriguez– better known by her stage name Empress Of – eschews the collaborative nature of pop music she explored on 2018’s “Us.” On that album, every track featured the work of a new praised producer and songwriter. This album is created solely through the work of four people, with Empress Of taking on all of the songwriting and a hefty amount of the production. It is a rarity for pop projects to see numbers this small, and the album definitely benefits from it.

“I’m Your Empress Of” is at its core a break up album. It was created in the fallout of a rough break up in a respite from a demanding tour schedule. The songs are aching and desperate. The lyrics are raw, honest and direct.

The album is a true body of work best consumed as a whole. The tracks blend into each other in such satisfying succession that it is hard to think of them as separate entities.

Somewhere in between “Bit of Rain” and “Void” is where the break up happens, from there the album launches head first into emotional swings.

“Love Is A Drug” is escapist denial. “Should’ve” is bitter anger poised as regret. “Give Me Another Chance” is a desperate bargaining attempt. “What’s The Point” is giving up.

The emotions are far in isolation, but here they are brought together. Here they make up a mentality and remind us that we are rarely just experiencing one emotion.

It explores the different aspects of healing and finding an identity after a break up. It is a diary of healing. At the end of the first track a high falsetto voice repeats “Now, I need this for me right now / Need this for me, need this now.” This music that follows is as much for Empress Of’s catharsis as it is for the fans enjoyment.

The opening track also has the voice of her mother talking about her experience of being an immigrant and being a woman. In this soundbite and other clips laced throughout the album she explains the difficulties of being an immigrant, being a woman and raising a daughter. These clips elevate the themes Empress Of explores in her songs, they make the experience universal. It becomes representative of more than just this break up. It takes on every set back we face, every struggle that damages our optimism and our pride.

Sonically, the album is dance based pop. But the production is in no way typical. This is experimental electronic music with a sharp sense of pop melodies. It doesn’t rely on these melodies, but it is willing to pull them out to drive the point home. Like the lyrics, the production serves the emotion above all else.

“Hold Me Like Water” is the penultimate step on the arc of this album. It is a gorgeous ballad that is produced with an ethereal beauty that encapsulates the spirit of this album. The track slowly builds, forming a stronger and stronger bed as the singer grows more and more sure of what she is saying – she is ready to explore herself with someone new. Then, at the end it drops out to just her voice – she was enough on her own the entire time.

“Awful” is a deceptive closer. The lyrics seem frantic and inconsolable on their face, but the production is more subdued. This track is the clarity – realizing how you’ve been treating yourself, realizing how you have been discounting yourself.

“I’m Your Empress Of” joins the pantheon of great break up albums with a style completely its own. It is an impressive feat for an artist to articulate such a specific vision so flawlessly. It is even more impressive to see it done with such universal emotions, ones that we are rarely willing to express and share.

On April 29, Hulu dropped the new drama series “Normal People.” A co-production with BBC, “Normal People” is an adaptation of the best-selling 2018 novel by Sally Rooney. Both the book and the TV series are an emotional look at the relationship between two young adults as they grow up.

The series largely takes place in Ireland. Marianne (Daisy-Edgar Jones) is the black sheep of a well-off family in Sligo. Her brother expresses deep rage at her mere existence, and the kids at school aren’t fans of her either. Connell (Paul Mescal) is the son of her mother’s cleaner. He attends the same school but is a popular jock type. Both are at the top of their class and find kinship in each other.

Connell comes to Marianne’s house to pick up his mother one day, and ends up talking to Marianne. The two have an instant connection and begin kissing. This is the start of a relationship that will carry them through high school and into university — where the tables of popularity turn as Connell struggles to find his place in Dublin.

The series is a beautiful and faithful adaptation of the novel. This is likely because Rooney had a large hand in the creation of the show. She and British playwright Alice Birch (“Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again.,” “Anatomy of a Suicide”) co-wrote the first six episodes of 12, and Birch wrote all but one of the remaining. Much of the dialogue is lifted directly from the pages of the book. The author’s involvement helped to translate these complicated and heart-aching characters onto the screen.

The show is captured in 12 half-hour episodes, a perfect non-traditional format for dramas that has been growing in popularity. The bite-sized runtime, usually reserved for sitcoms, helps to keep the plot moving and doesn’t allow for wasted moments.

The direction of the series is split between Lenny Abrahamson (“Room”) and Hettie Macdonald (“Doctor Who”). Both directors do a wonderful job of coaxing the subtleties out of the scripts and creating distinctions in the years and locations of the stories.

The lead actors also shine in the series. Jones and Mescal are both relatively green actors, but they give award-worthy performances in this show. Their characters have very emotional moments, and they have a deep intimacy that the two actors portray effortlessly.

The show is also full of sex. Based on the sheer amount of nudity and sex scenes, this is likely to be one of the steamiest shows of 2020. But none of it is overly gratuitous or exploitative. It is quiet and vulnerable.

“Normal People” is a moving piece of art that translates wonderfully from page to screen. It is an exploration of intimacy and insecurities as the characters work to become adults.

Celebrated show creator and producer Ryan Murphy has unleashed his second project for Netflix, “Hollywood.” In classic Murphy fashion, there is a whole lot of plot, sex, mildly confusing social messaging and hot, talented actors onscreen.

Murphy teamed up with frequent collaborator Ian Brennen (“Glee,” “Scream Queens,” “The Politician”) to conceive this dramatic miniseries. “Hollywood” is focused on the post-World War II era of the film studio system. It focuses on the creation of a fictional film, “Meg,” which is itself about how Hollywood can destroy a person. The show has many fundamental flaws — pacing, plot ideas, overly optimistic resolutions and some truly awful dialogue — but the wonderful production design, cinematography and acting deliver a fully bingeable seven-episode arc.

Murphy fans will recognize many familiar faces in the cast. Darren Criss (“Glee,” “American Crime Story: The Assassination of Giani Versace”), Dylan McDermott (“American Horror Story,” “The Politician”), David Corenswet (“The Politician”) and Patti Lupone (“Pose”) all have principal roles. The rest of the ensemble is full of famous faces — including Jim Parsons (“Big Bang Theory”) and Holland Taylor (“The Practice,” “Two and a Half Men”) — and a fair number of actors fresh to the silver screen. These actors give stunning performances throughout the show and work to elevate the sometimes questionable script.

Parsons gives one of the most engaging performances. He plays the role of an in-the-closet agent, Henry Willson, who preys on his clients to fulfill his sexual desires. His character, based on a real person, is given a bitter, vulgar and cunning portrayal that Parsons executes flawlessly. He injects a fair amount of comedy into his dark storyline.

Still, the wonderful acting cannot do enough to cover for this shows deeply confusing choices. Firstly, there is far too much plot. The series starts with a two-part episode, mostly so there is enough time to introduce all the characters and their respective plots. Put simply: It’s too much. Characters that should be supporting roles are given pretty equal screen time to some of the leads and often more dire plotlines. It is an odd and unnecessary choice that overloads the series and creates pacing problems.

Secondly, the show randomly blends its hokey portrayal of movies and acting of the time period into its regular dialogue. Characters are simultaneously fully fleshed out individuals and historical caricatures. It is a choice that many of Murphy’s series struggle with — either to give in to the inherent absurdity or to stay grounded.

The show also blends large amounts of fiction with fact to try and create a connection to the “golden age of Hollywood.” The fictional movie “Meg” is based on the true story of Peg Entwistle, who committed suicide at the famous Hollywoodland sign. Icons of the era, like George Cuckor, Tallulah Blankfield, Hattie McDaniel and Vivien Leigh, are mixed in with the fictional characters to make them seem more real. But to those not as well versed in Hollywood history, all of this effort is probably lost.

But the show’s biggest problem is its extremely liberal use of artistic license on the social politics of the time. It is nowhere near conceivable that most of this show could actually happen at the time. It is a rosey-lensed interpretation of how diversity could have been injected into the Hollywood system, and while it is nice to imagine, it falls very flat (especially considering the problems with diversity that the film industry still faces today) and makes the show’s team seem naive and oblivious.

The social commentary is so heavy-handed, yet the same characters throw these cautions to the wind and make choices that would have risked their lives and physical safety. The show completely ignores the social and historical consequences of its chosen context in a way that is almost offensive to the people who actually lived through the time and did achieve great things.

Ultimately, this will not go down as one of Murphy’s best efforts. Still, it is an easy watch and fun despite its flaws.

Jojo’s 2018 album “Mad Love” was a big return for the singer. It was her first official album release in a decade after a dispute with her label blocked her from releasing music for many years. It was also her major label debut.

“Mad Love” felt like an obvious extension from Jojo’s early career, but not all of it felt genuine to the artist. She has recently admitted that some of “Mad Love” wasn’t authentic to her and was campaigned for by the label. She was willing to make these concessions her new music to get the fans who had stuck with her.

Now, Jojo has more control over her music. She recently started her own label, Clover Music, as a joint venture with Warner Records. This has put her in a position to make and release the music she fully connects with and believes in.

The first full-length taste of Jojo as a mature artist recently arrived. “Good to Know,” her new nine-track album, is a beautiful and sensual contemporary R&B record. It is a more subtle record than her past releases, but this gives her the space to fully showcase her stunning vocal range and control. For many of her dedicated fans, this is the album they have been waiting for. It is a bridge between her mixtapes and her albums that paints the full picture of Jojo on her terms.

The project is led with “Man,” a track about knowing your worth. It is about waiting for someone who can love you as much as you deserve and loving yourself until then. It is a great message, delivered with enticing vocals that almost feel like a tease.

The album is full of these self-assured messages. Jojo has been learning and growing since her last album, and she is exploring those lessons on this album. She is acknowledging her addictive behaviors and other coping mechanisms and working to move through them and grow.

One track that showcases this is the powerful “Lonely Hearts.” Throughout the song, Jojo acknowledges the behaviors and actions she and her lover had taken in the past that probably were not the healthiest choices. But in the end of the song, she chooses to be alone and work on herself. She declares in the soaring chorus melody: “How can I work on me if I’m working on your body? / I thought we were meant to be, but we never really got it, did we? / I know one thing / Lonely hearts won’t break.”

A majority of the album is slow burning ballads, but there are two notable exceptions. “Pedialyte” is a day-after-the-party song for when you are trying to stumble from the bed (or, if it’s a really rough one, off the floor) to the fridge for sustenance and hydration. The song captures the crucial moment when we mutter “I’m never going to drink again.” It is almost always a lie, but it feels so true in the moment. It is a fun song and sure to make its way onto some playlists.

The other exception is “Comeback,” which has the album’s only feature. Tory Lanez joins Jojo for this sensual track about sex with a former flame. It is a real standout on the album, both in content and energy, but manages to find its place.

The album closes with a show-stopping piano ballad “Don’t Talk Me Down.” Jojo’s voice is on full display here, and the result is a jaw-dropping performance. It is the perfect ending to this song cycle and perfectly ties together the album’s themes.

“Good to Know” is a great R&B album from a seasoned artist. Jojo is obviously a true musician, and her voice is stunning. “Good to Know” is streaming everywhere now, and those that purchase the physical version will find an additional two tracks as a bonus.

Phantogram’s new record “Ceremony” opens with an eerily cheerful group of voices singing “what would I do in a world without you?” It’s a suitable start to an album from Phantogram, a band known for their utilization of juxtaposition. On “Ceremony,” the duo turns their focus to confronting the duality of loss.

Over the course of just under 40 minutes, the band attempts to reckon with the deep personal loss that half the duo faced and the larger cultural losses we have had in the past few years to suicide. It is also a product of the lost time that the band has traded for their success and grueling tour schedule.

The album comes just after the ten year anniversary of the band’s debut LP “Eyelid Movies.” But, the band dates back even further. Sarah Barthel and Josh Carter have been friends since early childhood and started making music together in 2007. “Ceremony” is their fourth album and displays the growth the band has made, using a wider range of sonic influences and the change in Barthel’s vocals.

The band had reached a career-high with the release of “Three” in 2016. The album hit Top 10 on the Billboard Top 200 chart, and the lead single, “You Don’t Get Me High Anymore,” peaked at number six on the alternative radio chart. The project was met with equal critical acclaim and landed the band some major sync placements in advertisements for Apple, Peloton and several TV shows.

It was during this massive success, that Barthel and Josh Carter – friends since early childhood — were mourning the suicide of Barthel’s sister, Becky. The band spent the next two and a half years touring the world promoting “Three.” But when that tour came to an end, Phantogram had to confront what had happened while they were away on the road.

“After ‘Three,’ it was a time to reflect in a way we never had before. Life after losing someone from suicide is very confusing. Performing those songs every night kept us stuck in that one moment. It didn’t allow us to move forward and grow as people. When the tour was over, we had to step outside of the Phantogram bubble and face real life. It almost felt like we were in survival mode. ‘Ceremony’ was inspired by self-care and seeing how common of a struggle everyday life had become,” Barthel explained in a letter to fans before the release.

The result is an album built upon dark synths, hefty drums and mutated vocals dancing in between the light and the dark. It cuts dark sonics and themes with hopeful lyrics and light vocal elements. It keeps their experimental heart of Phantogram but creates hooks with a sharper sensibility that grounds the more far fetched productions.

The album was created with a small team. Outside of the band’s two members, Boots and Andrew Dawson are the only credited writers and producers on most tracks. Both of these artists are more well known for work in the R&B and hip hop space. Boots has worked on Beyonce’s last two albums; Dawson is credited on projects from various G.O.O.D. Music artists.

While the tracks of “Ceremony” are laced with the heartbreak of suicide and coming back into their life after tour, they are written with a degree of ambiguity that makes them more universal. For example, the lead singles, “Pedestal” and “Into Happiness, ” could easily be interpreted as songs of unrequited love or break up tracks. It is the greater space that these songs occupy that makes listening to them all the richer.

“Ceremony” is a refreshed, bold and riveting 11 track album. It is the sound that Phantogram has defined for themselves over the past ten years dialed up to its extremes and refined to its strongest components.

Lady Gaga has been extremely busy in the couple of years since her last album. After the release of “Joanne,” Gaga found herself performing at the Super Bowl Halftime show and subbing in for  Beyonce to headline Coachella. She also released a documentary on Netflix, entitled “Gaga: Five Foot Two,” that chronicled her struggles with fibromyalgia and chronic pain.

Furthering the acting career she began with “American Horror Story” and “Machete Kills,” Gaga starred in the highly acclaimed “A Star is Born” remake. This role and the associated soundtrack brought her a step closer to securing herself an EGOT, winning an Oscar along with a Golden Globe, a Critics Choice Award, a BAFTA and several Grammys.

In 2018, she began her two-year Las Vegas residency with two concurrent shows at the MGM Park Theater. Earlier this year, Gaga also launched her own makeup line, Haus Laboratories.

With all of this activity, it is hard to figure out when she had time to compose and record a new album. But somehow, the album is coming.

Twitter worked itself into a tizzy in January when a track entitled “Stupid Love” leaked onto the internet. The singer was almost instantaneously trending on Twitter, but she barely batted an eyelash. Leaks have followed Lady Gaga throughout her career. In 2013, multiple snippets of “Applause” leaked online ahead of its scheduled release date. The younger Gaga called her fan army into action, having them report any links to Universal Music and releasing the song to radio a week early.

In January, a much calmer Gaga responded to the leak on Twitter, saying simply “can y’all stop.” She largely left the leak unacknowledged and didn’t release the track before her performance at the Super Bowl’s Super Saturday Night festival. Finally, on Feb. 25, she announced that the song would be dropping Feb. 28.

The song “Stupid Love” is a return to form for Gaga. It harkens back to the sonics of her early hits, like “Just Dance” and “Bad Romance.” It is a brighter take on these tunes with a bold arpeggiator holding down the bed of the track, while glittering manipulated vocal samples create the main hook of the chorus drop.

Gaga’s new song rides the wave of ‘80s nostalgia that has been taking over pop music since Taylor Swift released “1989.” But it is on the forefront of the trend, standing alongside Dua Lipa’s upcoming “Future Nostalgia,” repurposing the sounds and grooves of disco for the modern era. The track was produced by BloodPop, who worked on a big portion of the more folk-inspired “Joanne,” though he is better known for his dance pop hits, like Justin Bieber’s “Sorry.” And like most pop hits within the last 20 years, “Stupid Love” has a writing credit from Max Martin.

Lyrically, the song is not about much. Quite simply, Gaga is just looking for love, and she is pretty sure she has found the one. It’s repetitive, catchy and a classic earworm. There are three solid hooks, and the chorus is pretty thin, relying on the vocals to fill the space and draw the ear in. The song is more about the feeling, that draw that you can’t quite articulate. It is obviously a dance forward track and that comes through in the music video.

The track is accompanied by a music video full of choreography ready for TikTok. In fact, the video was even shot on an iPhone. It also hints at the themes of the upcoming album, “Chromatica.” The video begins with an explanation of the world you are about to enter, a world rife with conflict that Gaga’s tribe of Kindness Punks is trying to resolve. The video is a beautiful dance through the desert that sees a revival of Gaga’s avant-garde fashion sense.

Gaga announced March 2 that the album “Chromatica” will arrive on April 10. It is a very short promotion window, likely looking to capitalize on the momentum of “Stupid Love” and the short attention span of the streaming era.

“Stupid Love” is a strong lead single. Hopefully, the rest of the album can live up to it, and we don’t have another “Artpop” on our hands.

In the age of social media, we are confronted with the concept of wellness every day. In between posts about meal prep and influencers pushing flat tummy teas, we see comment sections full of recommendations for essential oils and ads for radical laser therapies. Just last month, Netflix released a docu-series following Gwyneth Paltrow’s company, Goop, as they research unorthodox treatments.

Most of these “wellness” products seem like various packagings of snake oil. But, the wellness industry is massive. In 2018, the dietary supplement industry was valued to be over $100 billion. Goop has received a brand valuation of $250 million.

So, who’s buying into these products? Are there any real benefits? Are there tangible harms? And while we’re at it, what does wellness even mean?

These are the questions that the second season of the podcast “The Dream” explores and attempts to answer. Throughout the season, which just released its final episode Feb. 24, examines the power of the Food & Drug Administration, scrutinizes the culture around pregnancy, and even tries out a couple of fringe therapies – magnetic resonance therapy anyone?

“The Dream” is a series that explores the ways capitalism exploits the concept of the “American Dream” and our innate optimism and trust in others. The Podcast is co-hosted by Jane Marie – a Peabody and Emmy award-winning journalist who used to work on This American  Life – and Dan Gallucci – a Grammy-nominated audio engineer and former member of The Cold War Kids. Marie is the major player within the show providing the signature rants that provide the bed of the show.

The first season of “The Dream” caused quite a stir, taking on a controversial subject. The podcast’s debut season focused on multi-level marketing – a business model that utilizes a vast network of nonsalaried salespeople and often strongly resembles the structure of a pyramid scheme. The season dove into the history of the business model and some companies that currently utilize it like the infamous clothing company LulaRoe.

The second season’s exploration of wellness feels like a natural extension of the first. There is quite a bit of crossover in these two fields of interest. The concept of wellness is far more expansive though, and there is much for Marie and Gallucci to explore. They spend a large portion of the season looking into dietary supplements and their relationship with regulation and pharmaceuticals.

This season also gets far more personal. Marie and Gallucci talk about their personal wellness beliefs and regimens, and Marie tries a handful of therapies and supplements on herself. Marie also explores her family’s dedication to essential oils and explores how a traumatic incident during her childhood has influenced her stringent views on optimism.

If you are looking for an unbiased exploration on the topic of wellness, “The Dream” is not where you should look – it’s basically the antithesis of “The Goop Lab.” Jane Marie comes into her research and the show with a concrete view and there is not much that will convince her she could be wrong. This can be a problem for the show. Though it does its journalistic due diligence, Marie’s uncompromising distrust of the industry is likely to put some listeners in an uncomfortable position.

At the same time, however, Marie’s nihilism and righteousness are what keep the podcast interesting. She is a strong antidote to the pipedream verbiage of the industry. Her reprehension creates an engaging tension that keeps you listening to the series as she discusses the frequencies of lemongrass with her aunt and tests whether magnets can heal her sore knee.

Whether you are a wellness cynic like Marie or just surrounded by the industry’s messaging, “The Dream” will guide you on a fascinating exploration of what people will do to feel or seem healthier. And it might just make you think twice before picking up that bottle of “vitamins.”

Rex Orange County headlined two packed shows at The Fillmore in Fishtown this week. The singer-songwriter is nearing the end of his tour in support of his latest album “Pony,” which was released last fall.

Rex Orange County, born Alex O’Connor, is an alternative artist that grew out of the bedroom music scene. His first album “Bcos U Will Never B Free” caught the attention of Tyler the Creator who subsequently featured him on his grammy-nominated album “Flowerboy.” Rex Orange County’s sophomore album, “Apricot Princess,” was a huge step forward from his debut, and earned him his own cult following. The music was much more fleshed out, with stronger songwriting and elaborate and lush instrumental production.

On his latest album, the 21-year-old indie bedroom matured into a major-label backed alternative artist. So it is fitting that the tour sees him headlining his biggest venues to date. And, in most cases, he is selling out those rooms.

On Monday night, his young fans lined up waiting for the doors to open at The Fillmore. The line stretched the length of the parking lot and around the corner. It was obvious people were eager for the show and didn’t want to miss a minute of the set since there was no opener.

Rex opened the show with the upbeat lead single from “Pony,” “10/10.” It was an appropriate choice, being on the more energetic side of his catalog. He took the stage to a crowd screaming along with every word. The crowd sang along to almost every song throughout the night getting especially loud during the more riotous tracks like “Television / So Far so Good,” “Never Enough,” “Best Friend” and “Sunflower.”

The stage started as a cloudy sky, something almost out of a comic book. The ground was adorned with turf and white flowers. Though he makes his music by himself, he tours with five band members – a drummer, bassist, guitarist, trumpet player and one man who plays the saxophone, keyboard, guitar or flute depending on what the track calls for. It was very impressive to see some of the more intricate songs, like “Television / So Far so Good,” brought to life with the band.

In the middle of the set, a curtain came down hiding the band. Rex Orange County played some of his slower, stripped back songs by himself and a cover of Alicia Keys’ “No One.” It was here that Rex took the time to talk with the audience a bit more. He thanked them for their support and asked them to keep singing along.

As he began “Never Had The Balls,” the curtain came down to reveal a full set change. The clouds had been replaced with a gigantic silver inflated pony and disco balls. It was a great way to signify the mood change within the setlist, with the energy picking back up for the next few songs.

The show ended with more down-tempo tracks “It’s Not The Same Anymore” and “Always.” It was a bit weird for the music to slow back down to bring us home, but the crowd was still singing their hearts out.

Rex Orange County puts on an extremely musical and fun show. If you are a fan, you should definitely look to catch him live if you can get tickets before it sells out.

Kesha’s “Rainbow” was lauded as a major reset for her career. It was a maturation from the edgier party music to a more folksy sound built on empowering themes. The album received major praise and earned her first Grammy nominations. It seemed like this was the beginning of a new path forward for the artist as she entered her thirties.

Her new album, “High Road,” does not follow that path. The singer’s fourth album is a chaotic reckoning of the two sides of Kesha’s catalog: the care-free party girl and the survivor. These sides clash heads from track to track and very frequently within a single track.

An example of this is the title track, “High Road.” The song opens with a soaring chorus about taking the high road and not losing sleep over the a—holes that won’t stop talking about her. The post-chorus is a rising melismatic earworm that quickly hard cuts into a high school cheer-esque verse. It’s disorienting at first, but it works to a certain degree.

The song’s outro throws the listener for a loop again with a phantom hype man commanding you to put your hands up and down. At first, it feels like it is building to the next track, but then the following track reveals itself to be a tame ballad. “High Road” is a strong song, but it ultimately fights so hard with itself that you take away more from the production than anything Kesha says.

On “My Own Dance,” Kesha complains, “’So, the internet called and it wants you back / But could you kinda rap and not be so sad?’ F–k it / What’s a girl to do? What’s a girl to do?” The chorus implies that she will no longer bow to the requests of others, yet she spends a large portion of the album — and even this song — kind of rapping and ignoring sadness. You’re left to wonder whether she actually enjoys these songs or if we have collectively forced her to cave to our will creatively.

There are a handful of songs that show promise and prove that Kesha from “Rainbow” has some control. “Resentment” and “Father Daughter Dance” are the most emotional and raw tracks on the album and seem like logical sequels to “Praying.” The former features Brian Wilson (The Beach Boys), Sturgill Simpson and Wrabel. It is a calm examination of refuse to find it within yourself to forgive someone who has deeply hurt you. It is a beautiful track.

Obviously, we all contain multitudes and an artist cannot be boiled down to a single archetype. But pulling two distinct parts of yourself into one body of work is a difficult feat. It has to be a well-orchestrated collection with the perfect ordering of the songs.

And the order of the tracks is largely where “High Road” stumbles. It bounces back and forth between escapism and sentimentalism. It could easily be reordered into a two-part album focusing on each, and it is likely that this may have made a more impactful body of work.

Still, there are some great tracks on this album that could carry “High Road” to a more favorable legacy in the Kesha catalog. These songs do a much slicker job of combining the two versions of her music.

Most obviously is “Kinky,” which a little jokingly has a feature credit for Ke-dollar sign-ha. Honestly, this track feels more like a full return of the 2010 party queen. It has the wobbly bass and the shiny synths backing lyrics about getting freaky with strangers. But it has the cleaner and stronger vocal stylings of her sans symbol counterpart. “Kinky” is sure to be a strong contender for the dance floor for all of 2020 and, dare I say it, a very early summer song contender.

“Kinky” is the last of a trio of near-perfect tracks on the album. The preceding two are “Little Bit of Love” and “Birthday Suit.” “Little Bit of Love” is a bombastic last plea to fix a failing relationship, co-written by Nate Reuss — formerly of the band fun. “Birthday Suit” is a 8-bit infected pop earworm that is about exactly what it sounds like. “Cowboy Blues” is another standout track on the album. It is the most stripped-back production on the album and the best storytelling.

“High Road” is an interesting body of work to take in at the beginning of the decade. With the prominence of streaming deconstructing and reforming the meaning of the album as a body of work, “High Road” confronts the idea of consistency and cohesion.