12 Songs, 40 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

Canadian country-pop singer-songwriter Tenille Arts launched her Nashville career during the latter half of the 2010s, at a time when many of her female peers gravitated toward assertiveness in their lyrics and vocals. She can summon frisky forwardness herself, as she proves during the strutting, beat-driven tune “Wouldn’t You Like to Know,” but she devotes most of the rest of her sophomore full-length to other inclinations. Working with an expanded circle of collaborators, including writer-producers Alex Kline, Grand Vogelfanger, and Adam Wheeler, Arts makes vivid use of reflection. “I Hate This” is a sleek acoustic track that depicts the excruciating deprivation of putting a relationship on hold; the piano ballad “Another Life” mourns the loss of an imagined future; “Nothing to See Here” wistfully surveys how a breakup can sour the experience of familiar places; and “Call You Names” is a rueful remembrance of youthful misbehavior. Arts, a clear, lithe singer, enhances her expression with plaintive swoops and bruised curlicues.

EDITORS’ NOTES

Canadian country-pop singer-songwriter Tenille Arts launched her Nashville career during the latter half of the 2010s, at a time when many of her female peers gravitated toward assertiveness in their lyrics and vocals. She can summon frisky forwardness herself, as she proves during the strutting, beat-driven tune “Wouldn’t You Like to Know,” but she devotes most of the rest of her sophomore full-length to other inclinations. Working with an expanded circle of collaborators, including writer-producers Alex Kline, Grand Vogelfanger, and Adam Wheeler, Arts makes vivid use of reflection. “I Hate This” is a sleek acoustic track that depicts the excruciating deprivation of putting a relationship on hold; the piano ballad “Another Life” mourns the loss of an imagined future; “Nothing to See Here” wistfully surveys how a breakup can sour the experience of familiar places; and “Call You Names” is a rueful remembrance of youthful misbehavior. Arts, a clear, lithe singer, enhances her expression with plaintive swoops and bruised curlicues.

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