Wednesday, May 8, 2024

Eliza McLamb displays the many facets of girlhood on her debut album

Breaking back into the music scene after a year away, Eliza McLamb has captured the perfect picture of girlhood with her brand-new album. 

Going Through It, which came out on Jan. 19, is Eliza McLamb’s debut record. Known for her pandemic-era hits “Porn Star T*ts” (which has now been deleted from streaming services) and “Debt,” McLamb is making strides to shrug off the title of “TikTok musician” and cultivate a new image for herself. With the release of her first album, the singer is worried less about the number of streams and more about writing emotionally intelligent and heady tracks. 

“As we have become an increasingly infantilized society, entertained by lights that flash the brightest and narratives that conclude in under 30 seconds, I worry that we are making music for babies,” said McLamb. Gone are the days of deciding if a song is for you. Instead, musicians will tell you “this is a song for girls with abandonment issues,” or “this is a song for people with gifted kid burnout.” McLamb argues that no one has to investigate anymore, quickly “categoriz[ing] yourself, the song, your likelihood of enjoyment, and the opportunity to assess the entire piece in a matter of moments.” 

During the production of her new album, McLamb tried her best to avoid this. On her blog “Words from Eliza,” the singer wrote “the truth is that audiences are not babies and they resent being treated as such… the best artists hold a necessary tension with their audience whereby the artist maintains creative control and the fan is given a license to choose how to engage.” 

It’s clear that on her debut, McLamb has certainly achieved the tension she valorizes. 

Setting the stage for the rest of the album, “Glitter” is about both the beauty and the profound sadness that comes with growing through girlhood with a best friend. “Glitter” opens with a delicate piano melody which is underscored by the incessant strumming of one anxiety-inducing electric guitar chord. At the 35-second mark, the song launches into a more robust sound which is upheld by a clear and unfailing bass line which acts as a throughline for the rest of the track. 

As the song progresses, the sweet piano, which remains consistent throughout the entirety of the song, starts to feel out of place. Restless and agitated, “Glitter” pits the beauty of girlhood against the anxiety and uncertainty that is characteristic of getting older as a woman. 

The third track, “Mythologize Me,” is a carefully intertwined cross-examination of the different ways in which adolescent women ascertain the kind of person they are going to be when they grow up. Built around a steady, thumping bassline and a tumultuous guitar melody, the musicality of the track supports McLamb’s raspy vocals. “[Even] at its snarliest, it’s still pretty,” said Exclaim’s Megan LaPierre about the singer’s voice. “There’s something sublime about it, a romantic awe—like the Gothic literary archetype, it makes for the ultimate foil to the fear of death.” 

Lyrically, the track sounds like something a young Taylor Swift might’ve written if she’d read Judith Butler’s “Gender Trouble” during the Speak Now era. McLamb, tired of trying to figure out who she is on her own, turns to the boy in her backseat, hoping he will tell her exactly who to be. An introspective look at what makes the “perfect image of a girl”, “Mythologize Me” is an uncomfortable reminder of what our patriarchal society expects the final product of girlhood to be. 

“16” is an intense trauma dump that takes the form of Going Through It’s eerie sixth track. Quiet and distorted, McLamb’s vocals are almost lifeless as she unpacks a story of deep familial turmoil. Behind the twinkling sound of the ambient synthesizer lives a simple beat. Constant and unchanging, the beat induces the uneasy feeling associated with a clock ticking down to zero. 

“16” sounds like floating through space, completely alone and surrounded by a vast abyss of nothing. The track infects the listener with an inescapable feeling of emptiness, reminiscent of snakes slithering over skin, lulling the body into a comfortable state of numbness before strangling it to death. As the song progresses, McLamb descends further into complicity as she bears witness to the destruction of every single thing her parents had promised her. The ticking beat a constant reminder that time is passing, and her childhood is slipping away. 

Taking a turn for a brighter, breezier sound, “Anything You Want” asks the age-old question of whether it’s better to be truly known or remain a beautiful mystery forever. The song’s leading guitar rhythm is supported by a synth-distorted piano line that persists to the very end of the track, even when the rest of the instruments have given way to chaos. McLamb’s vocals are warm and tender, a stark contrast to the undeniable lifelessness in “16”. 

“Anything You Want” moves deftly between graceful beauty and screeching pandemonium before finally deciding that the answer to the question of being understood doesn’t matter. McLamb could sculpt herself into anything her partner wanted her to be and that would be better than anything she could be on her own, so why does it matter anyway? 

Concluding with the final single and the album’s 10th track, “Modern Woman” interrogates the contemporary woman’s identity crisis. With a pop-punk guitar sound and a snare-heavy rhythmic section, the singer dances between melodic vocalizations and guttural screaming. This jumble of sounds highlights the variety of different “women” McLamb is balancing inside of her head, each intermingling with one another as they wait for their time in the sun. 

“Modern Woman” lets the listener know that it’s okay not to know what kind of girl you want to be yet. Even McLamb doesn’t know, still influenced by social media personalities and the forcefully imposed feminine stereotypes created by patriarchal society. And in the meantime, McLamb insists it’s okay to become as many different women as you want to be. 

A clear distinction from other modern artists, McLamb and her debut album ask its listeners questions instead of simply giving them the answer. Examining the many different facets of being a woman, Going Through It knows girlhood intimately, in both its beauty and its horror.

Hannah Barton
Hannah Barton
Hannah Barton has been an Arts & Entertainment editor at The Brock Press since 2023.

As a writer, she is dedicated to uncovering the vibrancy of the GTA’s dynamic music and theatre scene, uncovering and amplifying the voices of up-and-coming artists. From thought-provoking album analysis to narrative concert reviews, Hannah is committed to articulating the essence of each artistic endeavour she encounters eloquently and emphatically.

Outside of The Brock Press, Hannah has also been published in the First Person section of The Globe and Mail.

Hannah is currently enrolled in the Concurrent Education program at Brock in the intermediate/senior stream. She is majoring in history with a particular interest in classical studies and ancient language.

During the 2024/2025 school year, Hannah will be the President of Brock’s Concurrent Education Students’ Association. In this position, she will lead a team of fellow teacher candidates, providing opportunities for Brock students to make connections inside and outside of the classroom.

Hannah has been on the Board of Directors at The Brock Press since 2023. In this position, Hannah has helped to oversee the organization’s transition into a worker-cooperative. This spring, Hannah will be working on a special committee that will be digitally archiving 60 years’ worth of print editions of The Brock Press for public access.

More by this author

RELATED ARTICLES