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Since 2020’s ‘What’s Your Pleasure?’, Jessie Ware has been reaping the rewards of a fresh creative revelation. Dance music is irresistible when it’s driven by insistence. The movement of the music is compelled by the artist’s singular mission statement. The intention behind her recent couple of albums has been to apply a level of rigorous romanticism to her body of work, a lust for love and life that can only be supported by the kinds of luscious disco she uses to support these oft-affirming declarations. Truthfully, Jessie could continue to deliver on this addictive era of her sound until she can record no longer. It seems to be an endless well of fruits, and when you have a formula that strikes at the heart of dance every time, you really can’t go wrong so long as you adhere to the basic steps. Thankfully on ‘Superbloom’, this theory is proven largely correct, as this is an emphatic notch to add to the belt.
Containing what is perhaps her most visceral, punchy set of tracks to date, Jessie Ware’s latest is actually her at her most vulnerable as well. She still maintains the steady inclination towards love, sexuality and the like, which is almost what makes the switches so effective. “16 Summers” arrives much later in the tracklist, sweeping the listener off their feet with breathtaking grace and an unexpected detour into balladry. Ware fears the quickening passage of time, her kids are growing up too fast. It’s that all too familiar dread of aging. We find ourselves caught up thinking so much about where the time went, that we forget to spend any of it in the moment. She vows to cherish the time she has left in the end, and there’s such a bittersweet sense of acceptance. There’s too much inevitability to really come to terms with, so what do you do? Even the title track, which is certainly funkier by comparison, dons a more minor affectation. Jessie wants to revisit the moment she met this lover, feel those feelings again. It’s quintessential Jessie Ware romance, but with a very slight tinge of yearning.
On the punchier side of things though, we are utterly pollaxed by a number like “Mr. Valentine”. Darkened up with a bass and drum combo that is straight out of the ESG playbook, with some added Liquid Liquid-esque auxiliary percussion for good measure, it’s a track that some may say feels “out of left-field” for Jessie. It doesn’t matter when it sounds this nasty. Ware’s playful sleaze is wielded fittingly, making this all feel like a light-hearted, but nevertheless enticing roleplay. Example number two is the penultimate “No Consequences”. Tapping directly into the nimble funk and soul of some classic Aretha or Diana Ross, but with a layer of grit heavily borrowed from a Betty Davis, Ware is leaving all inhibitions behind. To put it simply, it’s about going hard as fuck in the sheets, and saying whatever happens here, stays in here. Speaking of channeling classics, “Ride” is some of the purest Donna Summer worship going around. Ecstatic synth arpeggios echo and skip freely around Sturdy (yes, with a capital S) beats. It might be the first time Jessie Ware has let a lead synth melody be the chorus of the song, yet another songwriting subversion to note down.
She just grows more confident, more self-assured in her artistry the deeper she digs into these bags. It’s so enriching to watch and listen to an experienced artist really capitalise on what is essentially a second wind. A hell of a revival, it places her in the upper pantheon of current day pop queens perusing the crates of yesteryear. Ware might even be the best one doing it right now. Hard to say she isn’t, given her proven capacity for consistently sound songwriting, coupled with her unmitigated verve and penchant for all things groove. Jessie Ware is a rarity, a diamond that shines the brightest in the somewhat rough. Even if her next release darts in the complete opposite direction to these last three, she’s obviously got her tail up so much that it’s difficult to foresee a reality where she doesn’t stick the landing.
Dan Will Review 