BANKS gets violent on Off With Her Head

In today’s age, with people ready to publicly lampoon any small misstep or uncouth behavior, PR teams are on standby to remedy any faux pas and replace it with a sanitized, clean slate. We want personal music, but not too personal, lest you reveal something unsavory. Beyoncé and Taylor Swift both had to edit songs or music videos after their art struck a chord for a small minority. BANKS has never really cared about all of that.

Her brashness is what makes “I Hate Your Ex-Girlfriend”, the lead single from her fifth album Off With Her Head, so refreshing. She relishes the chance to take a whack at an unsuspecting (and possibly innocent) girl, teasing her ego and loneliness. BANKS has already got the guy, but it doesn’t stop her from taunting, “Heard you’re tryna say you’re over him / Until you let the alcohol set in.” Doechii joins the pile-on, starting her verse with the warning, “I hate you bitches, I’m misogynistic!” The song is so not girls-girl, feminist, or flattering, really – but it is very exciting.

Hatred isn’t foreign to Jillian Banks. Across her discography, she’s wrestled with difficult emotions that come out in often violent ways: “So I got edges that scratch / And sometimes I don’t got a filter,” she warned on Goddess, her icy 2014 debut. And from declaring herself the devil or linking love to a contamination, her records are often harsh and punishing, laden with dark sex and darker feelings (she’s the Jewish Tove Lo, my friend quipped). Her melodies or visuals are often arresting; I remember exactly where I was when I saw her mutilate and caress a replica of her head for the “Fuck With Myself” video. “Please let me be misunderstood,” she opened 2022’s Serpentina. This isn’t someone kept awake at night by public opinion.

Which is maybe why she returns to Off With Her Head with such ferocity. She opens with “Guillotine” (“Put the tape on your mouth and your head on the block”) and closes with the title track to declare, “It’s the end of the line / …And there’s nothing you can do.” She shrugs off both therapists (“Fuck that bitch”) or former friends in equal measure, writing songs with characteristic but intense forwardness. There’s no mixed messages or questioning her motives – she’s staring you dead in the eyes, daring you to come forward.

For better or for worse, no one quite crafts a song like BANKS, which does result in some dastardly errors. Rapping “You think you slick” over violins and a thudding piano like she does on the haphazard “Meddle In The Mold” might have sounded experimental and radical on paper, but in practice, it’s a little vexing. “Direction” has the biggest disconnect between vocal performance and backing beat, and it’s here where her vague pronunciation toes the line of incomprehensibility. But a strange way to sing a song has never stopped her before (“Alaska”, “Skinnydipped”, “Fuck With Myself”). Even “I Hate Your Ex-Girlfriend” came across as stutter-step at first, refusing to build momentum until its last moments.

But Off With Her Head’s success rate is high for BANKS; unlike past projects, it never really lulls. Returning to her alt-pop and R&B roots results in some unsurprisingly solid jams. It’s why something like “Delulu” works, despite the somewhat cheugy title; you have to wonder if she’s playing a character or if she's actually been convinced someone will fall into her grasp eventually. “People can’t escape their fate,” she sweetly reasons. “I’ll wait for you to see it, too.” She taps electronic/neo-soul auteur Sampha for “Make It Up”, a glitchy and affecting duet that recounts the passage of time, and “Love Is Unkind” uses its warbly bass to taunt someone who thinks romance is all too easy.

Not to say BANKS is only a mean girl – the record’s softer sides are plenty and gorgeous. “I want your time,” she admits on the minimalist “Stay”: “I’ll give you all of mine, I told you.” She dips into reflection on “Best Friends”, where she recounts a fellow weirdo who rose the ranks and left BANKS alone. “Move” and “River” seem to be the parents of Serpentina’s “Anything 4 U” in their groove and easy, danceable rhythms; the latter’s velvety pulses, especially, likens back to Sudan Archives’ welcoming “Home Maker.” It’s one of the most vulnerable points on the record, and definitely the most hypnotic.

A BANKS record is always a bit chaotic – it’s her time-trusted method – but Off With Her Head is both focused and commanding. Her varied approach to songwriting and crafting results in some of her most unrelenting work yet, and its messiness is charming rather than trying. Listening to your innermost thoughts isn’t indulgent: for BANKS, it’s the path to artistic freedom.