The Lighthouse Journal

petal review part two: track-by-track

Ariana Grande’s eighth album came as a surprise. A little over a year prior to its release, she made statements hinting at a long hiatus from music after Wicked and Wicked: For Good’s success rekindled her love for acting and theater. eternal sunshine and its deluxe, brighter days ahead, would have sent her off on a career high. Then came the announcement for petal. Immediately, something felt different about her artistic persona. Lead single “hate that i made you love me” and the accompanying music video set the tone for a project deeper and darker than her previous work. Styled in black and white and drawing on imagery of flowers growing in inhospitable places, petal’s promo indicated a very intriguing record. While eternal sunshine unfolded as a cohesive narrative drawing on themes from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, petal had something to say. And boy did Grande not hold back. The album’s twelve tracks throw indictment after indictment at her so-called fans, critics, and society at large, filtering Grande’s rage through such exhaustion that many reviews have misinterpreted petal’s tone as boredom. While petal’s individual songs don’t capture a linear narrative, they form a nuanced image of an artist reacting to the trauma of overwhelming fame that only comes into focus when the individual songs are picked apart.

After much deliberation, we concluded that every track on petal was too essential to the story for us to propose any cuts. If anything, the album’s too short and could use a brighter days style EP to bump up the runtime.

12 — “big feelings”

Grande calmly yet confidently declares her passion for her partner and the “big feelings” they share, flipping the script on a typical track about the writer’s sexual prowess. Rather than taking a submissive role, Grande asserts agency in soothing her man and helping him connect with his emotions. The sentiment of loving someone “therapeutically” contrasts with Grande’s not-so-humble brags. She sings shocking lines in the verses and bridge with such ethereal vocals that the lyrics almost fly over the listener’s head, though the chorus becomes a bit stale by the end of the song. While uncomfortable, “big feelings” is a vital moment on petal because of the hook: “…I think I give him big feelings… // There are worse things that I could do.” Grande’s preemptive response to public outcry over her use of sexual language is a shrug. She’s weary of catering to their desires. The song is provocative in the traditional sense, but even more so, it pokes at the mutually parasitic relationship between entertainers and the public. Perhaps the indifference in Grande’s vocal is directed at the fans she gives “big feelings” to, rather than a partner. 

11 — “freak”

“freak” opens with a stilted guitar strum that imparts a sense of instability and unease. It’s like the hair-raising sensation in a horror movie, where everything looks fine, but it most certainly isn’t. Subverting the listener’s lyrical expectations, “freak” is far removed from sexually provocative flair. Instead, it jerks between Grande’s daydream of being truly understood and her realization of the insidious intent that her detractors and toxic fans possess. “How will it feel?” Grande wonders, that “Someday all the seeds will open / All of the life I’ve been denied of / Will bloom all around, unfrozen.” This is contrasted with the attitude of her opponents. To them, she is only a vessel from which they can derive pleasure from, a perspective Grande chooses to reject. The conversational call-and-response chorus sums this up nicely: “I won’t give you your fantasy this time / Can you do it now? / No, I won’t do what you say, freak, any time / What can you give me now?”

10 — “oh well”

This shimmery Max Martin-produced track is one of the rare instances where Grande and the production aren’t played up as opponents, but they harmonize beautifully. It’s an ironic fact compared to what Grande is actually saying. “Oh Well” expresses Grande’s deliberate surrender to trying to influence the narrative surrounding her while highlighting how the public has resigned to treating her unkindly. “Maybe this time (Can be) /  Different, I don’t have to try (To be) / Responsible for things that just aren’t mine” Grande realizes. The persona the public invented for her is not hers to wear. This is further developed in the second verse, where Grande asserts that the audience does not truly know her despite her honest efforts, and her performance for them has only been met with hostility. Instead of meeting them where they are, Grande wishes her detractors and haters well, but an ending they deserve. “Good things can replace dysfunction, obsession / Thanks, but I’ll see you right out / Good luck on your way to Hell / Oh well.”

09 — “bad thing (bunny hop)”

“Bad thing (bunny hop)” is the most joyous song on petal and is also one of the few songs directed solely at a new lover instead of the audience as well. It features a rocky synthwave beat that feels similar to The Weekend’s popular “Blinding Lights” or more recent Olivia Rodrigo fare. It could possibly be considered Grande’s first pop punk/pop rock song. Grande sings about falling in love (or perhaps back into love) with someone who has been or previously been in her orbit. “Feeling like a teenager, I guess I really needed ya / It’s silly, but I wonder if you feel how I feel / Have you been this fine the whole damn time?” The track perfectly captures the euphoria and sickly butterflies-in-stomach feeling of the possibility of new love, and you can feel the smile in Grande’s voice. The outro of “bad thing (bunny hop)” samples the insidious lead single “hate that i made you love me,” but the overall positive attitude of the track suggests a reversal of fortunes rather than a relation of the earlier track’s themes. 

08 — “stay”

One of the few moments on petal highlighting Grande’s vocal power (and even so, a restrained version), “stay” reads either as a sweet song celebrating a strong relationship or a plea for permanence after the pain divulged on the first three tracks. Does insecurity overshadow the declarations of love, or does the final chorus truly end on a happy note? Most of the song’s positive statements are immediately followed by doubt, a reaction to negative past experiences and the pressure of public perception. “Maybe you could set me free,” Grande sings, only to immediately retreat into “That’s not me, that’s not me… / There’s no need to overthink / Really just don’t wanna be temporary.” And yet she does overthink what seems like every other line. Whether from a place of desperation or genuine care, Grande asserts “I don’t want to be / Anywhere but by your side.” There’s certainly an overflow of emotion, and “stay’s” sparse lyrics keep the listener guessing, as with much of petal’s writing.

07 — “never get over me”

“never get over me” comes in the album’s last third, right after “like i do” (more on that one later) as a kiss-off to the toxic relationships, both actual and parasocial, that petal critiques. Grande uses R&B genre markers to give the track a cool, confident atmosphere, making her declarations of love feel a bit calculated. Like “big feelings” and “like i do,” “never get over me” twists the love song archetype to address the public. “I won’t let you forget how I feel… // No, you’ll never get over me” she sings in the soft, breathy register she’s preferred since starring in Wicked. Grande’s vocals sound disinterested—she wants you to know that she understands the power she holds over you and that she doesn’t care how that affects you. Opening with that swanky electric guitar hook right after “like i do” really sets the track’s tone. The lyricism on paper is straightforward to the point of being a little on the nose, but the way Grande performs the track and the production choices make the story much more compelling.

06 — “nowhere, nobody”

“Nowhere, nobody” is the transcendent closer for petal. Over spaced-out, twangy guitars, delicate synths, and lofi drum beats, Grande narrates her dialogue with both her inner self and lover. You can hear Grande’s resilience within her romantic relationship (“I don’t care about tomorrow / I love you right now”) and her anguish over the rat race for public approval and success (“Tell me, why I keep on climbing just to reach the ground?”). Eventually, Grande resolves to accept whatever life has next for her, even if it is a disaster. She’s got herself, and maybe someone worth loving, and that is enough. Grande also makes strategic use of pulling the production away and using a vocoder to layer and distort her voice. “Just deep breaths, honey / There’s no more running / And there’s nowhere with nobody else that I’d rather be.” It’s like she’s encouraging herself and the one she loves most., and perhaps the listener.

05 — “hate that i made you love me”

petal’s first single introduced the vision and world of the album very effectively. It shares the soft, atmospheric sound of “twilight zone” and “past life” from Grande’s last release while introducing the electronic textures heard throughout this new project. While the lack of a big pop moment is similar to eternal sunshine: brighter days ahead, “hate that i made you love me” takes a very different tone. The production sounds more empty than twinkly, like an astronaut confronting the moon’s emptiness after admiring the stars. Anger, exhaustion, and cold indifference battle for Grande’s pen as she sings about everything she’s done to please her audience. This is burnout manifested as a song. Grande’s four-octave range is nowhere to be seen, and the restraint she exercises at moments when she could have belted creates a bitter tension that only hints at the rage simmering below the surface. The fact that she holds back so much of the emotion she claimed to have felt in interviews and album promo might be Grande’s way of saying listeners don’t deserve her vulnerability.

04 — “kiss me”

“Kiss me” is the thesis statement and introduction to the broader themes of public relations and personal connection on the record, over an urgent and floaty production that is also gritty and industrial. Like much of petal, Grande leaves the subject of her song deliberately ambiguous so the meaning pulls double duty. “Kiss me” could either address Grande’s volatile and toxic relationship with the public or a risky yet fulfilling relationship in which she finds refuge. She begs for a genuine connection and for an attempt to empathize with the human behind the pop star.  “Kiss me like you know it’s goodbye, we could try to make it all the way out” she sings to her lover. She also acknowledges the inevitable magnetism between her and her muse, singing “My heart in your hands, despite all of my plans.” Her muse is always drawn to her, and vice versa. Grande offers to sacrifice her self-preservation for vulnerability, but wonders if the trade is worth it. Later, the chorus refrain morphs into “we decide to make it all the way out,” highlighting Grande’s intense hope that this relationship can reach a positive and healthy resolution.

03 — “petal”

The title track of petal introduces the main conflict of the album. In “petal,” Grande details the tightrope walk of celebrity over a thudding drum beat, spidery piano keys, and unsettling gothic synths. This is one of the clearest cases where the production functions as an antagonist and foil to Grande’s voice. In “petal,” Grande exists in the world as a dyad; there is the performer the audience sees, and then there is the person Grande is. The audience sees a woman who sabotages her life and attaches herself to men for creative inspiration and salvation. As Grande aptly puts it, “They say the artist needs tears / To write again.” Concurrently, Grande explores how she buckles under the weight of the audience’s expectations, hoping a perfect performance will save her from a fated heartbreak. “Long as she gets the ovation each night /Heartbreak won’t bite.” It’s a “fucked situation” that Grande is rightly frustrated with. It is convenient for the audience to criticize her personal choices but beg for art to be made from them. She can’t win. Throughout “petal,” Grande resolves to remain true to herself, rests in her musical legacy, and accepts the dissonance that will continue to exist between who she is and how she’s perceived. “It’s bye this time for real / Tired of painting endless pictures / Of a life that isn’t mine / Trying different boys on for size / If this is my curse, I’ll let it ride, ride.”

02 — “warning signs (interlude)”

If “warning signs” were a full track instead of an interlude barely over a minute, it would be The Song from petal. A stream-of-consciousness ramble that unravels lyrically as the production distorts Grande’s voice further and further, “warning signs” channels all the desperation, all the rage, all the loneliness, all the isolation of the album into a moment where you can almost see the artist break. There’s so much to dissect here that this could be its own article, but most important is the struggle for dominance between the artist’s voice and society’s desire for profit. “My pain is music to you, here me everywhere” croons Grande in a soft, breathy register. Shortly after, the vocal becomes staccato speak-singing, punctuated by electronic whirs and beeps, only to become a brooding reflection on the artist’s relationship with society. The song can’t decide whether to be an indietronica masterpiece or a forgotten track from brighter days ahead. It’s Grande at her most experimental, most creative, and most distressed. “I wish someone could hear me” she tries to scream as distortion drowns out her literal voice.

01 — “like i do”

petal’s best track does what much of the project excels at—deliberate reversal of expectations. Immediately following “warning signs,” “like i do” opens with a vocal warm-up that sounds more like a panic attack. This must be the part where the writing becomes less vague, where Grande finally opens up about the apathy, pain, and melancholy laced throughout petal. Instead, she strikes. Rather than allow the listener to watch her crumble under the weight of public scrutiny, Grande throws up a wall and lashes out. She’s not a washed-up starlet or a tortured poet, but a mob boss totally in control of those who “hate to love [her].” The brags about monetary exploitation and sexual prowess are so blunt they’re barely metaphors. After years of being controlled by the public’s desires, Grande’s decided she owns them. She won’t let their comments on her body (“All that shit talk keeps me well fed”) and perception of her character (“Keep my heels tall, my ego small”) change her because after everything she’s been through, “[she’s] still Grande.” “like i do” declares Grande the unequivocal victor of the mutually parasitic symbiosis of fame. Whatever society demands of her, she won’t be coerced into performing vulnerability. And she’ll continue building her life off the money their attention brings her.

Conclusion

As interesting as the themes Grande grapples with are, petal’s individual pieces aren’t meant to be a narrative. The twelve tracks act like individual petals, each unfurling to encircle the album’s central themes. Despite the pain, even trauma, petal addresses, Grande is still singing—and still innovating both as a producer and lyricist. This album doesn’t try to please the crowd with Grande’s vocal skill or wow with her ability to craft a cohesive story, but it offers commentary on the perspective of an artist who offers up her humanity for success and a society that constantly demands more from her. Now, to quote Grande herself, “Bye, this time for real.”

petal receives an 8.7/10. Read our narrative review here. The album is available on all streaming platforms and wherever music is sold.

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