The Good Witch - A Review
The mark of a good artist in the modern music landscape, where genres are increasingly cross-pollinating, is managing to carve out a unique combination of sounds, put together in a very specific way. ‘The Good Witch’, the second album by Maisie Peters, proves that the English songstress is finding her groove. It covers a lot of ground, even considering its 15-song runtime. We dive between image and body insecurities, some break-up therapy, and some cautious optimism… there’s quite a bit to consider. It’s been a busy few years since Peters’ 2021 debut album, and she’s happy to walk us through it.
It’s a well-paced body of work for the most part, especially considering it’s still early days in what looks to be a very promising career. The ebb and flow of energy levels ensure you’re almost rarely going to find yourself zoning out, and it manages to achieve this feat without an overreliance on blunt production tricks or radio-baiting hooks. It’s an album that feels simultaneously modern and classic, offbeat and mainstream, sometimes in ways that are hard to explain (which is an annoying thing to admit as a professional critic). Despite coming in under 50 minutes it does feel like a longer album than it is, though that can be attributed to the fact that, even with each song being individually a good listen, towards the end a few of them just sound too similar.
The best moments are when Peters embraces her quirkier side. The title track (and opening number) is Exhibit A. When you’re surrounded by swirling, kinetic samples and stems, it’s so easy to get lost in the best way. There are a few hints of Passion Pit across the album, with some calculatedly erratic sound design. The result? An album that seems busy and lively without feeling like it’s juggling too much. It’s not cluttered or overstuffed, which is a very difficult feat to pull off when there’s so much to say. There’s a Taylor Swift level of palatability (and a few other sonic similarities as well) but with more of an indie sensibility and a touch of playful anarchy.
As is now the norm, Peters’ coy, the slightly breathless vocal style adds depth and sensibility to her characteristically open-look, prose lyrical style. It also brings extra weight to when she lets the expletives fly freely (BSC is deserving of its Explicit content advisory). It’s particularly impressive because, on paper, it should be a shift of tone as jarring as splicing hardcore pornography into the middle of an episode of Thomas the Tank Engine. Instead, it’s yet another example of how Maisie Peters has a knack for walking a tightrope of attitudes, showing two sides of a coin at the same time.
Modern media expectations have evolved to the point that sheer earnestness feels uncomfortable and we require irony as a palette cleanser. Knowing self-referential attitudes are the norm. There have to be multiple layers to everything, and multiple ways of reading artistic output. This is certainly not a bad thing, but it does mark out the artists that can manage it all the more impressive. Being simultaneously self-aware and sincere is not easy, but Maisie Peters makes it work.
It’s a surprisingly heartfelt work, an alt-folk-synth-pop melting pot with bits of other genres thrown in. It’s worth a listen if you like your blue-sky pop laden with quirky, heartbreaking and sentimental lyrics, which is a combination that the UK singer-songwriter pulls off in spades. It’s a sophomore effort to appreciate, with several numbers that should rightly make the rounds on both breakup or summer vibe playlists. There’s burgeoning creativity on display that could go in a few interesting directions, so make sure you watch this space.