Capitol
Pop, 2024
Katy Perry has always been a bit of a pop enigma, a try-hard chameleon desperately trying to convince us she’s naturally eccentric. Her debut single, I Kissed a Girl, was like watching a teenager pretend to love coffee just because the cool kids are drinking it. Sure, it was catchy, but the “Look at me, I’m so edgy!” energy was unmistakable.
Over the years, her evolution had felt less like a journey and more like an overgrown child in a costume shop, trying on personalities for size. And now, with 143, she’s back to remind us that she still hasn’t quite figured out who she wants to be.
The album’s lead single, Woman’s World, is a tragicomic masterpiece of unintentional irony. Teaming up with the extremely not-controversial-at-all Dr Luke for a song about female empowerment is the kind of PR blunder you’d expect from someone who genuinely believes reading the room is an optional skill. The music video, meanwhile, features Ms Perry parading around in outfits that scream “I’m empowered because men find me hot!”—a move that’s about as feminist as a Hooters calendar.
As for the song itself, let’s just say it sounds like a track that fell off the back of the Teenage Dream truck, circa 2010. Nostalgia is fun, but did anyone ask for a time capsule of Katy Perry’s greatest misses?
The rest of the album takes a stab at harder, edgier dance tracks—“harder” and “edgier” in the way that a mildly spicy salsa is “dangerous”. The beats throb, the bass drops, and Ms Perry’s voice floats somewhere in the mix, like a ghost haunting her own party. There’s no Firework here, no Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)—just a relentless barrage of faceless club tracks that sound like they were created by ChatGPT on a caffeine bender. Sure, she’s trying to reinvent herself as a dancefloor diva, but it feels more like a desperate bid to stay relevant than a genuine artistic evolution.
Then there are the collaborations. Oh, the collaborations. Ms Perry’s track with Kim Petras is so forgettable it might as well come with an apology note. Meanwhile, Doechii and 21 Savage absolutely steal the show on their respective features, leaving her in the awkward position of sounding like a backup singer on her own album. It’s like inviting Beyoncé to your wedding and then wondering why everyone forgot you were the bride.
And let’s not ignore the optics of Katy Perry, the human embodiment of Wonder Bread, dragging black artists into her “edgy” phase. Yikes doesn’t even begin to cover it.
In conclusion, 143 isn’t so much a love letter as it is a cry for help. It’s the sonic equivalent of a drunk aunt trying to twerk at a family reunion—equal parts cringe and secondhand embarrassment. Katy Perry may still be chasing the spotlight, but this time, she’s only managed to trip over it.
Rating: 1.43 out of 10.
