Conan Gray - Wishbone

After the synth-pop detour of 2024's 'Found Heaven', Conan Gray returns to his heartbreak-saturated roots with 'Wishbone', a bruised, beautiful album that reaffirms his place as Gen Z’s most dramatic diarist. These are songs for late nights and rainy windows: devastating even when they're dressed up in pop hooks.

Opener 'Actor' sets the emotional tone with a gutting account of being hidden in plain sight. "A friend of mine asked you, 'Ever talk to Conan?' / You didn't react, you said, 'I barely even fucking know him'." It's classic Conan: wounded, hyper-specific and cinematic. Much of 'Wishbone' follows suit, unfolding like a tragedy full of secrets and hurt.

'This Song' leans into string-soaked melancholy, while 'Vodka Cranberry' captures the quiet torture of trying to move on. Even when the tempo lifts, the heartbreak lingers. 'Caramel' and 'Care' are brighter, more upbeat, but the emotional weight never fully disappears.

There are moments of clarity and bite. 'Romeo' is a delightfully sassy breakup song full of sharp one-liners. 'My World' delivers some of the album’s best lyrics, poking fun at toxic masculinity ("You can keep drinking and living a lie / And talking all low when you're out with the guys"). There’s a sense of self-possession here: he's still hurting, but now he’s in control.

Elsewhere, 'Nauseous' and 'Connell' circle back to themes of fear and the hesitation to trust again. 'Sunset Tower' and 'Eleven Eleven' keep things slow and tender, caught in the ache of what’s been lost.

'Wishbone' is a narrative album through and through. Every track feels like a chapter in a love story gone sideways, told with brutal clarity. Whether Conan's playing the heartbroken lead or the bitter ex, his gift lies in the way he captures how love really feels. It’s exceptionally sharp emotional writing, making 'Wishbone' some of his most affecting work yet.