Big Ideas

Remy Wolfe begins Big Ideas with “Cinderella”, a Soul train-inspired disco-funk number for her daily mood swings. Filled with jazzy horns, triangular bells and shrill whistles, it's the glorious riot of color we've come to expect from the Palo Alto artist. The opening track and lead single is saturated with her signature brainworms (“Cinderella make babies on the company's dime”), but Wolf finds room for the first of many existential questions she poses on her second album: “Is there something trouble with the way Am I designed?'

Following in the footsteps of her 2021 debut, Hera, “Cinderella” harnesses dance beats and one-liners to cover an undercurrent of vulnerability. The rest of it Big Ideas it tones down the gimmick but retains the infectious energy, blending Wolf's DayGlo disco pop with detours into '60s soul, '90s indie folk and psy-y prog rock. The “wave” ebbs and flows between a reggae groove and emo-rock blasts. On the surface, it comes across as a moody love song, but the Flaming Lips-inspired chorus sinks into Wolf's restless mindset. His heart Big Ideas comes to light in the outro, where she verbalizes her greatest fear: “If I fuck too much, if I get drunk all night, will you still love me?” The question could be directed at a loved one, an old flame, or even herself: Nothing cuts deeper than self-disappointment.

Wolf peppers her songwriting with confessions and anecdotes, like the taste of someone she kissed at Chicago's Empty Bottle on Halloween (“Cherries & Cream”). He's refreshingly honest about topics like sexuality, mental health and sobriety. “Alone in Miami” chronicles a hazy Art Basel week in Miami filled with crypto bros, cocaine, and Cuban sandwiches. In “Toro,” Wolff lets her freak flag fly, turning unflattering “I'm howling like a rabid dog” type images into sexy looks. It's not “I eat my ass like the human centipede” (from “Quiet on set”), but it still rings.

“Motorcycle” stands out as a soulful ballad that elevates a mundane affair into the stuff of fantasy. Wolf cosplays as a modern housewife who craves secret getaways on her Harley. “I love my motorcycle/Takes me around this funny town,” he sings, syrupy vocals floating over slow, bluesy guitar, “Ride the mayhem in this great big world/Where nobody knows what they're talkin' about.” Torn between the comfort of stability and the thrill of escape, Wolf ends the song on a painfully unresolved note.

Big Ideas it plays like an eclectic collection of scattered thoughts from her diary. The songs wrestle with big questions but offer few answers: “Are you scared? Do you regret it?' he seemingly asks a guard in an instant. Even 'Toro' carries a tinge of melancholy, hinting at the impending end of a night of euphoria. But the weaker moments can feel like half-baked muddles (“The thing about the chase is that it plagues the human race”) mistaken for narrative. “Frog Rock” and “Pitiful” – which sounds like the Teletubbies' version of “buy You a Drank” – sound like light antics.

If Hera was a hallucinatory wonderland that drew the self-proclaimed “Sexy Villain” as a comic figure, Big Ideas works to humanize Wolf's music without sacrificing its theatricality. The dreamlike disco-fever closing 'Slay Bitch', which is supposed to be a bonus track, is the choice to neutralize all the nerves and insecurities of the album. Wolf sounds like she's commanding you to fashion through your own outfit montage, somersaulting through the tune with the whimsical attitude of a young Cyndi Lauper. She's a bit scattered and sounds right at home.