Katy Perry succumbs to mindless club fillers on 143

Just last year, when Katy Perry announced that she had been working on new music, the internet's desire to see her great again was palpable. They were more than ready to celebrate her abdicating the years-long throne of pop music’s Flop Empire. 2020’s Smile, while housing some ear candies, was a middle-of-the-road return that, for the first time in her career, did not make it to the No. 1 spot on both US and UK charts. Wasn’t the lightning-struck arrival of “Never Really Over” meant to prelude something? All expectations were then re-routed to her seventh effort, which, to many’s dismay, turns out to be one of this decade’s most astounding car crashes in the industry.

The backfire of “Woman’s World” on Perry has been well discussed. Aside from its yuck-inducing faux-feminism and hotbed of male dominance in the credits, the monstrosity solidifies the fact that she is more a performer than an artist. Her performative vigour has taken the lead in fuelling her star power all along, and the exhilarating VMAs that aired last week attests to it. Thematic visions of honouring motherhood that she so often talks about in interviews feel disjointed when conceited coquetry and fleeting club romances rule over half of 143. Are provocative tracks like “Gimme Gimme” and “Crush” truly the creative outcome of maternal love? The dots are not connecting.

Dr. Luke’s frigid production and Stargate’s stone-faced songwriting attempt at everything except an exaltation of Perry’s star power. If these were the people behind Teenage Dream, 143 shows that age comes with qualitative degradation. “Crush” has all it needs to be in the playlist of Eurodance duplicates: mumbling post-choruses, stagnant kick-snare beats, verses of shallow observations. “Artificial” reads like a cheap fabrication of “E.T.”; her parts are so drab that JID can’t help but carry. She’s capable of so much more than creating these zombiesque club fillers. Everyone knows it. But it’s crystal clear that she values accessibility over artistic evolution.

Nothing sparks on 143. It’s all about easy endings and uncomplicated emotions, thus targeted for basically anyone, but what she doesn’t know is that the majority aren’t as tasteless now. The comeback singles are met with brutal reception in every direction. “Wonder” is the only one with replay value, which features her child’s voice and perhaps hints at their undetermined gender identity, leaving it up for them to decide whenever ready (“Beautiful girl”, “Beautiful boy”). The truth is – and she must know even if it hurts her – everything else signals a career nosedive from which her reputation might not survive. On the bright side, though, 143 adds more shade to a colourful year of pop music.