Gracie Abrams’ The Secret of Us confidently delivers vulnerable confessions

With The Secret of Us, her second full-length album, Abrams comes into her own, weaving a more assured and cohesive narrative of love, loss, and acceptance. Following the melancholic musings of 2023's Good Riddance, The Secret of Us marks a noticeable evolution in both sound and lyrical depth, showing that Abrams isn’t just wallowing in heartache anymore – she’s confronting it.

Abrams has always thrived on intimacy, and it’s elevated through continued collaborations with childhood best friend Audrey Hobert, who helped write many songs on the record, as well as with Good Riddance collaborator, Aaron Dessner. While The Secret of Us leans heavily on the themes of heartache and longing, there’s a noticeable shift in how Abrams approaches them this time around. Unlike her previous album, Good Riddance, which often lingered in melancholia, Abrams’ new effort allows space for hope and healing.

The album’s opener, “Felt Good About You,” sets the stage with Abrams’ signature confessional style, but this time, there’s a subtle shift in tone. While the delicate folk-tinged melody recalls her earlier work, there’s a sharper edge to her storytelling: “Felt good about you ’til I didn’t / Fell hard, then I lost your interest,” she sings, pulling the listener into a familiar tale of fading love, but with a sense of clarity that suggests she’s no longer as shaken by the loss as before. On “Let It Happen,” Abrams sings of surrendering to the unknown, a sentiment that feels like a guiding principle for the album. “I’d bet all my money that I will / Lose to you and hand you my life,” she croons, finding freedom in the act of letting go.

However, The Secret of Us isn’t all soft confessions and heartbreak. Songs like “Risk,” "Blowing Smoke" and "Tough Love" bring a more assertive energy to the album. On "Blowing Smoke," Abrams confronts the jealousy and frustration of seeing an ex move on too quickly, with sharp lyrical barbs like, “Tell me, is she prettier than she was on the internet?” It’s a rare moment of anger from an artist known for her quiet introspection, but it works – Abrams is beginning to show more emotional range.

Of course, the much-anticipated collaboration with Taylor Swift on “us” brings with it a level of gravitas that would be hard to ignore. While comparisons to Taylor Swift and contemporaries like Phoebe Bridgers are inevitable on this kind of a track, Abrams holds her own. Swift’s presence is more understated than expected, offering backing vocals that never overpower but instead highlight Abrams’s delicate delivery. The Dessner-produced track, filled with folky acoustic guitar and piano, maintains an intricate yet bold production style that defined folklore and evermore. “Do you miss us, us / Wonder if you regret the secret of us,” Abrams asks, probing the ambiguity that often follows a breakup without closure. It’s a haunting moment that builds to one of most epic bridges on the album—evidence that Abrams may very well follow Swift as the new queen of the bridge (check out “Let It Happen,” “I Love You, I’m Sorry” and “Tough Love” for some more).

Though Abrams’ voice is clear and emotive throughout, the instrumentation on “us” and elsewhere on the album sometimes feels muddled and dense, blurring the intricacies of the arrangements, and sometimes diluting the emotional intensity of her confessions. This approach might add texture (many tracks feature Justin Vernon of Bon Iver), but it lacks the sharp, clean separation of sounds and balance she achieved with Dessner alone on Good Riddance.

Still, it's Abrams’ songwriting – her ability to capture unresolved feelings – that remains one of her greatest strengths. Nowhere is that more evident than on the fan-favourite “Close to You,” a song Abrams wrote seven years ago. Though the synth masterpiece deviates from the rest of the record (Abrams even claims that the album was finished before its eventual inclusion) it bodes well as a vignette for future work. Here, Abrams wrestles with the push-pull of longing and distance, singing, “I burn for you, and you don’t even know my name.” The song’s layered production of electric guitar, synths, and rolling drum patterns creates a slow-burning intensity that builds until we’re left with the sense that these feelings, though unresolved, matter because they happened.

With The Secret of Us, Gracie Abrams proves she’s not just a product of her influences – she’s an artist steadily finding her voice. Abrams carves out her own space on this record, blending confessional songwriting with a newfound confidence that suggests she’s only just beginning.