The First Time

About

“No one ever told me what I’d have to sacrifice for fame,” The Kid LAROI sings on “SORRY,” the opening track on his debut album. “I’m just trying not to go insane, but I got all this weight on me and I just want to run away.” It’s a very real depiction of a fundamentally unreal experience: a young teen from Australia thrust into global stardom at rapid speed. His confessional continues: “Shit don’t make no sense, I mean, the pressure’s a mess/I’m 19, trying to navigate money and stre, weird industry friends/And my family life is intense and my girl is always upset because I’m always fuckin’ working.” There aren’t many people who can count multiplatinum certifications and an array of first, broken record, and awards among achievements earned prior to turning 20 or even releasing an official album. To be fair, The Kid LAROI, whose moniker honors his Kamilaroi heritage (the Aboriginal community of his maternal ancestry), started early. Born Charlton Howard, he released his first EP at 14, signed a record deal at 15, and dropped his <i>F*CK LOVE</i> mixtape at 16. The mixtape was then rereleased three time, each time with more new tracks added. The second reissue, <i>F*CK LOVE 3: OVER YOU</i>, included the Justin Bieber collaboration “STAY,” which topped charts in more than 20 countrie. It’s no wonder the pitfalls of fame have already left scar. As with his mixtape, <i>THE FIRST TIME</i> is primarily a breakup record. But the anger and resentment of <i>F*CK LOVE</i> has evolved and matured into heartbreak, loneline, even grief. The shift comes with significant musical growth, too: Save for a handful of hip-hop tracks with big-name features like Future and Central Cee, <i>THE FIRST TIME</i> is all pop melodie, folksy guitar, and soulful R&B sample. “CALL ME INSTEAD” even features enchanting piano from jazz legend Robert Glasper. What Howard realizes time and time again is that no amount of money or possessions will keep him warm at night. “The ghost of you still floats around my room,” he admits on “BLEED.” “Now every night, I lay here in this bed we made for two.” On “WHAT WENT WRONG???”, he tries and fails to distract himself: “There’s a whole lotta women running round this room, but the whole time, I can only think about you,” he sings over wistful synth. And then there’s the two spoken interlude. On “STRANGERS (Interlude),” Howard lays it out: “You can be with someone for three years… and then one day it’s over. We’re both living our own separate lives again, as complete stranger.” A little later, “STRANGERS PT 2 (Interlude)” feels like a self-flagellating response: the story of love that hasn’t gone wrong at all. It’s a cutesy anecdote from Justin Bieber, recalling the first time he met his “squishy little peanut” and now wife, Hailey. The Hallmark moment serves only to make Howard’s heartache all the more depressing. Still, Howard isn’t just curled up in bed feeling sorry for himself: He’s doing the work, too. On “TEAR ME APART,” he takes responsibility, apologize, and laments the “year’s worth of emotions in day,” his tangible pain a stark contrast to the breezy accompaniment. He checks himself on “YOU,” realizing with 20/20 hindsight that maybe <i>he</i> was the problem: “I used to think I was never wrong and all you’d do was complain/I see it all now that my ego calmed down, I don’t even know why you would keep me around.” .

via Apple Music

The Clerk says

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