I'm going a little outside of my usual stylistic bubble on this review, but I am fully sure that's a good thing. Who needs to live in any kind of bubble? We smalltime music bloggers are often frustrated or deeply annoyed by the endless emails from publicists who seemingly aren't even aware of what kind of music we actually write about. But the publicist who contacted me about Best Ex is one I particularly respect (and who does a really good job of only sending me stuff that I would potentially write about). So I listened, and I liked what I heard. Better yet, I related to it. So here we are.
Best Ex is the solo outlet for singer/songwriter Mariel Loveland, formerly of Candy Hearts. On her new album Good Girl, Loveland lives at the intersection of indie rock and contemporary pop music. These songs are clearly '90s alt-rock inspired but feel very modern in sound and production. Loveland co-wrote this record with producer Andy Tongren, and what results is a terrific collection of polished but earnest pop songs that essentially tell a story of what it's like to try and figure out life in your 30s when nothing has turned out the way you thought it would. The album begins with these lines that absolutely knocked me out:
I want my childhood back
Bare feet, wet blades of grass
Now my sister’s a mother
My brother’s losing hair
And I’m still exactly how you left me here
My god, that's brilliant. With that tone set, Good Girl proceeds into a powerful and personal exploration of a phase of adulthood that might be a little under-represented in the world of music and art. There are thousands of records, movies, and books about "coming of age" into adulthood. But what about when you enter your 30s and you're not settled and secure the way you're expected to be (or the way you once expected to be)? So many people can relate to this moment in life. You're not a kid anymore, but it feels like you just were yesterday. So many things are changing. Everyone around you is having kids and getting real jobs, but you're still trying to figure out if you even want those things. People start wondering what's wrong with you — as if your nonconformity to normalcy is some sort of personal defect. This would, I imagine, be even more difficult for a woman. Everyone would like to define you as someone's wife or parent, and you just want to be defined as an individual. That's the gist of Loveland's story on this record. She beautifully captures that feeling of being in your 30s and thinking, "No, this is NOT how it was supposed to turn out!"
Along with the songs which tackle identity and self-examination, there are some really great love songs (including deliciously scathing ones in "Man Like You" and "Living In Hell") and even some thoughtful reflections on the current state of the world (which totally makes sense since nobody experiences life in a vacuum). "Boring" gives me all the feels given my own discovery that my happiest life is one that wears its boringness like a badge of honor. Of course these songs are well-crafted and undeniably catchy, but it's their substance that really stands out. As a songwriter, Loveland is smart, truthful, and relatable precisely because she leans into being her authentic self. As someone who didn't really come of age until way after I was supposed to come of age, I'm strongly feeling these songs. And I think the connection will be even deeper for Millennials who are still actively living the life depicted on this record.
In a more fair world, I could see Good Girl being an absolutely massive record. These songs are as hook-laden as they are relatable. And Loveland is an appealing, endearing singer with a story that ought to be heard. This album ought to go over well with anyone who has a soft spot for '90s indie rock, and the Swifties and Livies in your life just might like it too. Is this something I would have written about a decade ago? Probably not. But in my old age, I seem to becoming less of a genre stickler and more of a fan of artists. And Mariel Loveland is an artist I'll be excited to hear again.
