By Olivia Turner | Arts & Life Editor
Aug. 15 brought with it one of the best breakup albums heard yet this year, pop sensation Conan Gray’s “Wishbone.” If you haven’t done so yet, pop in those headphones and buckle up for an emotional rollercoaster of an album about heartbreak, bitterness and overcoming.
While several of these songs were certified bangers as soon as they hit my ears, there were just as many that I listened to one time and didn’t return to. Not every song can be a hit, I guess. But not to worry — “Wishbone” is undoubtedly a listening experience that I’ll remember for quite a while yet.
The album starts off strong with “Actor,” the story of a heartbroken boy shunned by his secret lover. This is easily the most heartwrenching song Gray has written since “The Exit” from his 2022 album, “Superache,” beating “Vodka Cranberry” by a hair (but I’ll get to that one soon). “Actor” was a perfect beginning to this more-bitter-than-sweet collection, with Gray’s enchanting “ah-ahs” and the simple strum of an acoustic guitar.
It honestly sounds more like a track that would have been placed at least second or third in line on any other album, but its intensity serves as the best kind of slap in the face for the listener, drawing them in and showing that Conan Gray doesn’t play around when it comes to singing about breakups.
Gray then eases the listener into the tranquil waltz-esque rhythm of “This Song,” which is simple in lyrics but effortlessly dreamy in sound. Here, Gray makes his declaration, “I wrote this song about you,” one that is pure and shy, yet brave and hopeful all at the same time. I love the overall sweetness and soaring vocals showcased here, which serve as a good way to break up the ache of what is to come next.
I could easily see “Vodka Cranberry” becoming the most beloved track on “Wishbone.” It’s a ballad about the worst kind of epiphany — Gray gradually puts together the pieces of all the ways his partner has wronged him as he realizes what he must do, “If you don’t end things / Then I will.” I can already hear crowds screaming the beginning of the chorus, “Speak up, I know you hate me,” word-for-word at his future concerts.
One thing I feel Gray did really well in this album was stretching his vocal abilities and playing around with different tricks and sounds. Listening to it the first time around gave me full-body chills, and so did the second and the third, especially hearing him hit that G5 note in the “Vodka Cranberry” bridge, comparable to his E5 note in the “Alley Rose” bridge from his “Found Heaven” album.
Trumpets cue in the next track, “Romeo.” This song is catchy, with its fireside camp song feel, which eggs the listener to chant along. “My World,” which follows, seems to be a callback and clapback to Romeo’s antics in the previous track, singing “Romeo, I do not need a referee / Telling me we’re just a summer fling.”
The tone and subject shift to focus solely on Gray with “Class Clown,” a song about not being able to shake the feeling of essentially being a living, breathing joke, something he describes from his childhood. Gray then gets even deeper with “Nauseous.” This track has a low and slow acoustic sound, but is somehow the first good love Gray has sung of yet. Lyrically, it’s genius. Here, he dives into why he always seems “to feel safe with bad guys,” and how his trauma resulting from abandonment has led to commitment issues. This song is so vulnerable and beautiful, quickly becoming one of my favorites from Gray’s entire discography.
“Caramel” was one of the singles released from Wishbone, a grungy tune about a guy Gray just can’t forget. Gray successfully conveys the utter desire that can take over when one is missing someone, leading them to push all the reasons for breaking up to the back of their mind. It’s made clear by “Connell,” though, that the horniness doesn’t last long. This song cuts deep, as if by singing so many breakup songs, Gray is numb to it by now. That is, until his haunting, guttural cries of “Connell!” in the outro, as if he is releasing all the pain caused by their relationship into his name.
Gray revives the listener with the airy “Sunset Tower,” picking himself up as well by reminding his ex-lover that just because he’s working on himself, it doesn’t mean that makes him eligible to get back with Gray. Then comes “Eleven Eleven,” a hopeful, superstitious tune that keeps whatever love Gray still has for this person alive. This song seems to sum up the entire album, that deep down, a part of Gray is always going to love this guy.
“Care” is an upbeat end to the album about moving on and the acceptance of being eternally heartbroken to some degree. The sound of this track resembles something Alanis Morissette might have written, with lilting, angsty vocals. It feels like a breakthrough, leading the listener to wonder what might come next for Gray.
As an avid listener of Gray’s since his 2018 and 2019 singles, I feel this album was a good mesh of all the different styles and sounds he’s played with over the years. Ultimately, the quality of the album lies in the lyrics, but that’s not to say there weren’t a few choruses that will be ringing in my ears for weeks to come.
