The Manchester band’s catchy, well-executed pop-punk stumbles on generic songwriting and bland ballads.
Pale Waves may go through the motions of big emotions, but they never quite sell the feeling. Three albums in, the Manchester quartet has earned a reputation for pristine-sounding replications of past generations’ heartbreak anthems, bouncing through styles as if curating their own hyperactive, self-soothing post-breakup playlist. On their previous record, 2021’s Who Am I?, they took comfort in the sounds of early-2000s pop-punk, and on their latest record, Unwanted, they lean even further into it. With the help of producer Zakk Cervini (Blink-182, All Time Low), the band strides into darker territory, amping up the guitars and calling on heavier sounds from the era.
Pale Waves aren’t the only act mining this sound for inspiration. Dirty Hit labelmate Beabadoobee uses its aesthetics as a palette to paint a personal dreamworld; Willow embodies its brazen attitude to unpack modern anxieties. And while Unwanted may be pastiche, it occasionally earns its place among a crowded field of mainstream sellouts, aspirational TikTokers, and even the prototype herself. These are precise, catchy, well-executed pop-punk earworms. The bustling, Avril-inspired “Unwanted” revels in pop-punk’s contradictions, providing a sugary hook with a dark, rippling undercurrent of anger. Lead singer and songwriter Heather Baron-Gracie cleverly sets us up, singing “You’re so good” before the guitars tear in to help her finish the thought: “At making me feel like nothing, making me feel unwanted.”
Despite these flashes of wit, the band’s Achilles’ heel is Baron-Gracie’s generic songwriting, which becomes most apparent when the tempo slows. “Without You” packs changing seasons, a burning candle, and an ocean of tears into one bland, cloying ballad. The story behind “The Hard Way” is affecting—the lyrics explore complex feelings of guilt in the aftermath of a classmate’s suicide—but the anti-bullying message lacks the specificity and emotive delivery necessary to transcend cliché. Coupled with a gauche TikTok challenge, any weight the song has dissipates. When Pale Waves strip back the drama and let the songs speak for themselves, it’s much more effective. The ambling “Numb” sets us in the center of a depressive daze with only Baron-Gracie’s restrained vocals and a few gentle plucks of her electric guitar to guide us. When she belts out “let me be free” at the chorus, it’s genuinely moving.
Less convincing is the ambitious diatribe “You’re So Vain,” where Pale Waves seemingly attempt to reunite Lavigne and ex-husband Deryck Whibley by combining the mocking talk-sing verses of “Girlfriend” with a riffy, Sum 41-inspired chorus. As compelling as these ideas are, they don’t quite mesh. Still, the stylistic variety would have been welcome on some of the more cookie-cutter tracks—the consecutive “Alone” and “Clean” blend together with near-identical melodies and song structures. The quartet also rarely lets their songs breathe—vocal-free moments are few and far between. One of the album’s strongest moments comes at the end of “You’re So Vain” once guitarist Hugo Silvani is finally given the opportunity to shred out, following a wordless chorus of “da da da”s.
Despite Unwanted’s valleys, Pale Waves know how to make a good pop song. The band channels Paramore on brash lead single “Lies”: propulsive percussion, distorted vocals, and a brisk tempo are the perfect vehicle for an angsty kiss-off to a self-centered partner. With a big hook and a punchy bassline, even the shallow melodrama of “Ripped out my heart and left it bleeding” can’t halt the momentum. It’s the oldest cliché in the book, and the rare moment when Pale Waves muster enough spirit to make you want to believe it.
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