Carly Rae Jepsen: "All That"
Carly Rae Jepsen reached fame as the memory of a guile-free pop past. “Call Me Maybe” was not superficially retro: it did not recall a specific era so much as it did a pre-EDM, pre-hip-hop, pre-pubescent pop spirit. It was the sugar rush freed not just from its wrapping, but from shape, taste and texture. In its unselfconscious sweetness was a reminder of how popular music sounds at its denominator, how it’s experienced by our naive inner 10-year-olds. “Call Me Maybe” was wildly successful for obvious reasons (big hooks, clever concept). But underlying saudade built Carly Rae a more committed audience, one for whom innocence, backlit by the threat of its loss, sparks frisson. (This was embodied by Carly Rae herself, nearly a decade older than what was perceived as her teenpop fanbase.)
In contrast, “All That”—the second single from Carly Rae’s incoming third album—telegraphs its retro costume, clad head-to-toe in mid-1980s pastiche: LinnDrum-esque percussion, cascading synthesizer arpeggios, slap-bass. This isn’t exactly a novel maneuver in 2015. The-Dream kickstarted a Prince-appropriation craze years ago, and is currently readying a comeback record; Beyoncé flirted with mid-’80s R&B two albums back. At this point, even Jason Derulo is cashing in on memories of memories of the gated-drum era. Importantly, however, “All That” is a ballad. The ’80s (and 1990s, for that matter) were much more ballad-friendly than our current pop soundscape; perhaps that’s why the sound of the ’80s so perfectly renders the poised, patience-testing ballad format, to help it go down easier. It gives you something to grab onto until the tour de force climax at the song’s conclusion.
Co-songwriter Dev Hynes‘ interest in the ’80s plays well with critics, but it takes on extra dimension framing a major pop star with a distinct, established sensibility. Suddenly, the stakes are higher: channeling a specific era goes from music nerd novelty to a bold statement. Lyrically, “All That” is fairly blank—the most memorable image comes from the brief mention of a lighthouse—but that’s Jepsen speaking to the broadest audience. In a subtle touch, the Carly Rae of “Call Me Maybe” comes through in the chorus, where again innocence is set against its absence: where finding a friend feels like a profound step beyond becoming lovers.
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