For Clairo, Third Time’s the Charm

Born in 1998, Clairo is at the forefront of a generation that built their lives and careers on social media and the internet. From the 13-year-old who took hours to build up the courage to post her covers on Facebook to the 19-year-old who went viral on Youtube for her candylike bedroom pop, Clairo’s entire rise to fame is chronicled in views and likes. She represented her generation in her endearingly naive early singles, singing of the highs and lows of high school romance. This continued in her first two albums, Immunity (2019) and Sling (2021), which saw Clairo attempting to define her character as a musician while figuring out her sound. Clairo’s latest album, Charm (2024), is for a generation of new adults who are done with the adolescent search for identity and meaning; they now accept who they’ve become.

When describing the origin of Charm (2024)’s title, Clairo explained that it was a reference to the saying “third time’s the charm.” Charm is her third attempt at redefining her sound, but it’s also her third answer to the question, “Who is Clairo?” On Charm, Clairo answers this question indirectly, allowing the mundane moments of her life to describe her persona.

Clairo’s distinctly flat tone makes this approach especially successful. Her intensely vulnerable choruses are delivered with the same matter-of-factness as her reflections on small, ordinary moments from her life; they are treated with the same level of importance. On the track “Glory of the Snow,” Clairo sings, “When I drive, I always check over the seat / I could see you right there, waiting on me,” followed by, “I can breathe with you right there / Hold onto me.” While the first lyric lacks the upfront urgency of the second, her slow, rich enunciation allows it to simmer. Despite its small scale, the habit she describes evokes constant pangs of heartbreak. These associations and images wouldn’t be possible if she glossed over her subtler words for more showy writing. Clairo’s vocal evenness is responsible for Charm’s richness and dimensionality.

These musings are delivered over lush, smoky instrumentals produced by Leon Michels, a well-known force in the ‘70s funk revival movement. Michels uses bright pianos and punchy bass lines that contrast Clairo’s soft vocals while adding subtle synths that lift up her singing, adding warmth and richness to her voice. Crunchy and occasionally syncopated drums break through the mix, endowing even more subdued tracks with an undeniable groove. Michels usually sticks to acoustic instruments and discrete synths, but he intermittently dips into more noticeably electronic territory. The laser samples on “Juna” sparkle against the backdrop of Clairo’s singing, and the synth bass near the end of “Add Up My Love” builds tension before the song transitions to the next. A wobbly, charmingly dated synth plays the main melody on the tense bridge of “Slow Dance,” giving the otherwise serious song a whimsical edge. 

At times, these details occasionally steal the spotlight from Clairo’s vocals, relegating her voice to simply another layer in the mix—beautiful but substanceless. However, without these moments of instrumental takeover, Clairo’s vocal consistency would become tedious. Michels strikes a balance, keeping his work largely subdued so that the rare outbursts don’t lose their novelty or threaten the narrative integrity of Clairo’s songwriting.

Clairo’s singing on Charm has a new confidence and sense of self-assurance. In “Second Nature,” Clairo describes the intuition that guides her in love. She follows her lover “Like the sap from a cedar / Rolling down to be near her / It’s second nature.” Clairo doesn’t doubt these urges—instead, she celebrates them. She embraces her desires not as applaudable or reprehensible acts but as parts of who she is, even when they conflict with her rational mind. On “Nomad,” Clairo sings, “I’m cynical, a mess / I’m touch-starved and shameless” with the same slightly deadpan delivery that permeates the rest of the song. This makes these admissions feel like plain facts integral to her identity rather than shameful, dirty secrets. 

The Clairo of Charm is far from the anxious teen of her past. She is an artist at peace with herself, sharing anthems of self-love and acceptance with a uniquely monotonous vocal style perfectly suited to her themes and messages. Even the instrumentals that strike a balance between the 70’s folk-inspired sound of Sling and the more traditional pop of Immunity brim with confidence as they bounce from verse to verse, giving the youngest millennials the soundtrack they deserve.