 is a masterful debut album from Irish musician Ciara Mary Alice Thompson, who goes by CMAT. In the new release, Thompson navigates bitter thoughts about anxiety, depression, and loneliness while singing along to upbeat country-pop tracks.

Thompson’s lyrics can be acrimonious at times. On “Peter Bogdanovich,” she fantasizes about extra-marital affairs: “I like you Peter, I wish you were a wife-leaver.” Throughout the album, Thompson’s witty songwriting works to convince listeners that she is a bad person. On “Groundhog Day,” she cites swearing and a crippling Diet Coke addiction as reasons to “give up on [her],” and asks, “What has two thumbs and is not going to be good anytime soon?” on the same track. Thompson speaks of a tendency to catastrophize emotions or situations and make herself the butt of the joke, which serves as a sort-of catharsis from her own misery. On “Lonely,” her vocal runs channel country powerhouses like Dolly Parton, who she references as a major inspiration. The song’s use of background vocals creates a humorous effect — as the artist wails, “I’m so lonely,” a lighthearted echo follows, “She’s so lonely.” Thompson may not claim to be the most morally-upstanding role model, but she certainly nails comic relief. “No More Virgos” and “Every Bottle (Is My Boyfriend)” is where Thompson’s zaniness really shines. Her ability to merge comedy with vibrant choruses shows off her unique talent.

 feel like they drag on too long, particularly towards the end, which can weaken the emotional impact of Thompson’s genius lyrics. Excessive repetition can be hard to edit out, especially when the songwriting is so catchy that listeners find themselves struggling not to sing along. Tighter wrap-ups would elevate the overall work.

The artist compares herself to the likes of Mae West, Anna Karenina, and Lucy Liu throughout the album, demonstrating a universally felt attempt to understand oneself through various media depictions of women. Her writing has feminist undertones; she grapples with co-dependency issues on “I Don’t Really Care for You,” and longs for independence on “I Wanna Be a Cowboy, Baby!” She struggles with beauty standards in candid revelations — “I break down every time I’m on the scale,” — and of course, through comedy: “I got a pain worth picking on with Skinny Tea ads.” And with every vulnerability she reveals, Thompson eventually derails her self-flagellating narrative to expose a humanized version of herself — one that listeners will find themselves relating to more and more as every track plays.

CMAT’s debut "If My Wife New I’d Be Dead" knocks it out of the park

At 16 years old, Taylor Swift signed a contract with Big Machine Records. Unbeknownst to the teenager, she sold away the rights to owning her master recordings, which made her vulnerable to the whims of a multi-million dollar label and stripped the young singer-songwriter of ownership. All six of her first albums were put out by Big Machine from 2006 to 2017. Swift vowed to recover the rights to her work pre

 that was put out by her original record label, and later bought by Scooter Braun. She disapproved of this sale and has publicly expressed her dislike for the music manager. Braun recently sold the rights to another company, but Swift’s fight for ownership persists.

13 years later, Swift revisits her sophomore album, 

and the new version totals to an hour and 46 minutes of 20 re-recorded songs and six new releases. 

is the first installation to this arduous process of reclaiming her music after waiting years to start re-recording due to contractual commitments.

This is Swift’s third album release in the last nine months, following the albums 

, both of which venture into the folk and alternative rock genres. Against that backdrop, 

 jolts fans into the artist’s country-pop roots. The 2008 album launched Swift into stardom and earned her a Grammy for Album of the Year. With two more Album of the Year Grammys for 

, Swift has become one of the best-selling musical artists worldwide.

Swift ensures that all 19 tracks from the Platinum Edition of 

remain unchanged in the new versions, which have the same lyrics and banjo-playing. All that is missing is her slightly nasal southern twang, which faded over the years, with Swift’s controlled vibrato taking its place. “Fifteen (Taylor’s Version)” is almost indistinguishable from the original, and will immediately transport listeners to their own adolescent heartbreaks, or allow them to agonize over fresh heartache through a nostalgic retelling. Swift’s melodrama in “The Way I Loved You (Taylor’s Version)” is excessive and immature, which rings true to the 2008 record. Her lyricism has expanded over the past decade, but deep cuts like, “The Best Day (Taylor’s Version),” where Swift reminisces on her relationship with her mother, are timeless.

Written by Swift during the early aughts, the six “From The Vault” songs were not previously included on the album and offer fans a novel listening experience. They all strike a balance between her youthful country narration and contemporary production from the likes of Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner. “Don’t You” stands out the most. It leans more towards a pop ballad rather than a country ballad, and heavy synth laced with echoing vocals and flute tones creates a master work, one that seems unimaginable if it matched the debut production style.

Swift collaborates with country singers Keith Urban and Maren Morris on two of the other “From The Vault” songs. On “That’s When,” Urban’s harmonies elevate Swift’s verses, amounting to a powerful song about lovers’ dissolution and reunion.

with its catchy chorus, chock-full of Swift’s spiteful verses sung over a bright and lively beat. Her vulnerable storytelling is rooted in country music, and it is comforting to hear Swift’s mature vocals on the reproduced tracks where fans can now know that their beloved artist owns the rights to the art that means so much to them.

With ‘Fearless (Taylor’s Version),’ Taylor Swift begins the arduous process of reclaiming her music

Japanese Breakfast came to the Royale April 1st for their spring tour. Long Beard opened the night with their lo-fi music, soft strumming, and breathy vocals. The two bands have been on tour together before in 2017, playing the same songs from the same albums for over two years. When Michelle Zauner, frontwoman for Japanese Breakfast, ran on stage she gave a warm nod to her familiar opener and long-time friends. From there, she spent most of the performance jumping around stage and beaming at her bandmates while singing about genetic disease and dogs dying.

The band opened with their most well-known song, “Road Head,” a song that is heavy with synth, looped guitar, and auto-tuned hums. Later, they played “Till Death” a song off of their 2017 album, 

 that takes a rather morbid perspective for a love ballad. Its opening lines, “All our celebrities keep dying, all the cruel men continue to win,” reveal Zauner’s inclination to write candidly about her dark ponderings. There’s a key change that accompanies the final verse, almost qualifying the song for some heavy-handed, melodrama soundtrack, but as Zauner lists off her fears in a fervent roar– “PTSD, anxiety, genetic disease, thanatophobia”– “Till Death” quickly asserts itself as a cathartic release from that which plagues her deepest thoughts. 

 third birthday,” Zauner said, after performing that album’s biggest hit, “Everybody Wants to Love You.” Her bandmates then left her to perform a pared-down version of “Triple 7,” the album’s final track. Before playing, she revealed, “I wrote this song on a lot of adderall.” These brief confessions reflect Zauner’s lyrics, which carefully navigate the line between poetry and bluntness. “Triple 7” perfectly captures this talent. “How I cling to your sleeves ’til they’re like lacerated sails” she sings in one line, and the same words appear in a later verse, “How I cling to your sleeves ’til they’re all fucked beyond repair,” but lose the refined metaphor at the end to convey the song’s resignation and indignation through Zauner’s expertly honed skill.

Japanese Breakfast emerged during a wave of female artists who were infiltrating the era of male-dominated indie rock. Among those who spearheaded this trend include Rilo Kiley, who boomed in the PA system during the wait between Long Beard’s set and Japanese Breakfast. This early 2000s band clearly bore influence on Japanese Breakfast; the lyrics from “Pictures of Success:” “I’m a modern girl, but I fold in half so easily,” ran through my head when Zauner was crying out, “I’m not the one I was then, my life was folded up in half,” during “This House.” While the band played “Diving Woman,” yellow lights blinded the onlookers and gave the band a celestial aura, especially Zauner, who’s clothes reflected neon light as she moved spastically to her husband’s electric guitar playing, a moment I’m glad to have witnessed.

After playing what Zauner called “the three most depressing songs back to back” she said, “LP number three is going to be a happy ass record!” A surprise cover of “Lovefool” by The Cardigans coupled with an upbeat encore of “Machinist” ended the concert on a note of elation; so perhaps Japanese Breakfast’s tendency to create dissonance between lyrics and melodies will be resolved in this forthcoming album, although I don’t think anyone is complaining about their current devotion to incongruity.

Sofia Noorouzi