Tinashe, Popstar
Popstar sees Tinashe occupying an incredibly difficult to pull off position: merging more than a decade and a half of evolving presence with the present’s textures almost seamlessly and with an earned confidence. In-between sidewinding DnB daisychains, purposefully nostalgic synths and self-aware Y2K trappings this album functions as a kind of statement of purpose bracketing her career up to this point.
Many of the melodic decisions which shape Popstar are comparatively new territory but at the same time not necessarily unprecedented - 2023’s BB/ANGEL involved a few different forays into adjacent ethereal hyperpop-infused space, and echoes of this project certainly show up in corners of Popstar (particularly the stirring piano twinkling across "Flashbacks"). Remarkably, despite making indirect and direct winking reference to plenty of recent pop, this album is carved in such unique fashion that it remains fully and recognizably a Tinashe project throughout its entirety. This is partially a result of the sheer idiosyncrasy of some choices, with tracks like "Melatonin" and "I’d Rather Be Alone" blending progressive, straightforward R&B grooves with a muted kind of plunderphonic sensibility - which is something I have genuinely never heard before. A separate thematic tone weaving through this album is visible on tracks like "Twentyfive Eight", which blends icy South London dub with lyrical interrogation of whether and how one might be able to balance socially-mediated pressures to be productive with wanting to create something from actual, real, human love.
"Empty Stadium" seems almost like a direct bridge to some of Tinashe’s earlier sensibilities, which were present in copious amounts on her earliest few mixtapes (RIP to the DatPiff era) and naturally faded somewhat as she gained prominence, and which mostly faded in lieu of legibility by the time “2 On” showed up. There are these same kinds of visible shades of the eternal and the sanguine visible across a constellation of songs including "Brainrot" and "Cloud 9." The two songs together comprise some of the funnest moments on this album are easily those where she’s weaving this sense of awe into and underneath a legitimate banger. Two worlds which don’t often intermingle are brought together almost imperceptibly.
Some tracks do maintain more of an inertia than others - "Nobody Wanna Dance Anymore" alternates between Timbaland style bridges and a confusing twang. And "Overdramatic" is definite tonal switch, tilting over into this sort of lurching boombap doodle before landing in a really arresting pool of sentimental light (“Nothing’s gonna change the way I feel about you”). The dissonance is probably the point, but it does still break with a significant flow the album has been building towards up to his point. The titular "Popstar" reflects this really interesting kind of refined 2010’s millennial poptimism under aquatic low-pass filters, and at times has the effect of a mid-career Rihanna song from some adjacent but noticeably better alternate universe. This is presented so earnestly and so well-hewn that it’s difficult to parse when situated alongside the more robust, modern textures which decorate the album. Some answer might come from "Heavy Weight", the project’s somber acoustic closer, which radiates pressure (familial expectation, inhuman standards applied to oneself) as well as release (“I can’t carry it now” comes across as less of an admission of failure than a relieved self-assessment).
Still, there’s no exhaustion palpable in this album. Things change, and we ideally change with them. There’s a freedom in embracing these facts while ensuring there’s room for whatever was genuine and true about the past.
'Popstar' was released September 25th, 2026, via A Nice Life and Atlantic Records
