Clairo - Charm

Clairo’s most powerful moments come when she’s whispering secrets you didn’t even know you wanted to hear. On ‘Charm’, her third studio album, Claire Cottrill invites us deeper into her world than ever before. It’s a place where vintage synths hum like summer cicadas, where confessions are murmured over warm Wurlitzer chords, and where the lines between past and present blur into a dreamy haze.

This isn’t the bedroom pop that first brought Clairo fame, nor is it the pastoral folk of ‘Sling’. Instead, ‘Charm’ carves out its own sonic territory – a lush, analogue landscape that feels both intimately familiar and thrillingly new. Collaborating with soul revivalist Leon Michels, Clairo has crafted an album that’s as warm and worn-in as your favourite record, yet bristles with the electricity of fresh discoveries.

From the gentle sway of opener ‘Nomad’, it’s clear we’re in for something special. “I’m touch-starved and shameless,” Clairo admits, her voice barely above a whisper. It’s a sentiment that echoes throughout ‘Charm’ – a longing for connection tempered by self-doubt and hard-won wisdom.

The album’s first act unfolds like a series of Polaroids, each track capturing a fleeting moment with startling clarity. ‘Sexy to Someone’ rides a subtle groove as Clairo explores the universal ache to be desired, while ‘Add Up My Love’ turns bittersweet nostalgia into something achingly beautiful. But it’s on ‘I Might Say Something Stupid’ where Clairo trulybares her soul, wondering “What if I’m not special?” over instrumentation that recalls the best of 70s singer-songwriters.