Suki Waterhouse comes into her own on Memoir of a Sparklemuffin

Whether it’s from her on-screen appearances or being a poster girl for some of today’s most renowned fashion, Suki Waterhouse is a recognisable name (and face) for many. And yet, it wasn’t until 2022’s debut album I Can’t Let Go that we first saw a glimpse into what lies beneath the facets of her public image. On her sophomore project, Waterhouse strips back all façades to dive deeper into the individual behind the numerous titles that she holds. Revealing the star at her most vulnerable and empowered, it sees her candidly navigate her changing identity, arriving in light of becoming a mother herself. Tied together by the motif of transformation, represented by the Sparklemuffin spider, it’s an aptly (and equally absurdly) titled record that finds her in the midst of refining her own image.

From the offset, Waterhouse sets the tone for the album as she ventures into new sonic territory. Opener “Gateway Drug” leans into otherworldly psychedelia, with distorted guitar tones overlaid by melancholy-tinged vocal runs. Meanwhile, the ‘90s-inspired “Supersad” sees boisterous riffs and killer hooks combine to create a fierce, driving energy that reaffirms the multi-hyphenate’s shifting sound. A momentary step away from the whimsical indie pop of earlier work, the first offerings provide a glimpse into her redeveloped creative vision.

With identity and self-exploration serving as guiding threads throughout the record, it’s as much a showcase of Waterhouse’s growth in songwriting as it is a musical one. Countering wide-eyed reflections with relatable quips – “Sometimes I’m so damn nonchalant that I can’t get to what I want / That quintessential cool girl in a bar” in “Nonchalant” is a particular highlight – there’s an overarching sense of self-awareness that pervades through each track.

Here, more than ever, we delve into the internal world of Waterhouse as an artist, individual, and person in the limelight. On “Model, Actress, Whatever,” commanding vocals muse over the disparity between her personal and professional life. Acting as a centrepiece for the record, it sees the Londoner reflect on her ascent to stardom, while refraining to take herself overly seriously. Light and subtly humorous, it’s a refreshing touch that brims with personality.

While the 18-tracks teeter along the fine line of becoming slightly too long at certain points, it continues to offer an intimate compilation of her thoughts and emotions. From the pared-back female solidarity of “Lawsuit” to the untamed boldness of “OMG,” Waterhouse offers an immersive journey through the corners of her mind. With stylings reminiscent of Lana Del Rey and Wolf Alice, it’s a messy yet beautiful array of diary-like confessions that weave between cutting balladry and defiant pop-rock.

Returning to the heartfelt, string-laden sombreness that has become a trademark of Waterhouse’s artistry, the final tracks largely linger in the realms of gentle acoustics overlaid by spellbinding songwriting. Preceded by the mellow, Americana-tinged “Could’ve Been A Star” and “Everybody Breaks Up Anyway,” closing track “ To Love” offers a nostalgic finale to the record. “Is there a universe / Where our paths never crossed?” she asks. Morphing from an ambient, sedately paced initial verse into an unfettered crescendo of cascading percussion and soaring vocals, it’s an impactful sign-off that secures Suki’s powerful pop moment.