Ariana Grande’s long-anticipated album, Sweetener, is a testament to the power of her breathy, lovesick croon. The project highlights her mastery of sighs and whispers, as the soft undertones of her voice cushion even the highest parts of her range. The album’s shine comes from moments where we get to hear Grande’s more grown-up sound, evident not only in the lyrics, but in the audible exhale that comes along with them.
Take “R.E.M,” a sleepy standout that started off as a Beyonce demo. While Beyonce’s version allows her signature deep rasp to take over, Grande’s is lighter and less urgent, instead capturing the dreaminess at the track’s core. Her whisper is lullaby-like, but succeeds at keeping the listener’s attention over a beat made up of sharp panting. She shushes and hisses between more explicit lines, a sensuality that feels unexpected from a former Nickelodeon star born, but not at all unconvincing. Only a few years ago was the world making wisecracks about her relationship with a rapper five years her senior. It’s hard to believe the same woman who confidently lets out a seductive bellow could’ve ever been so easily infantilized.
The album’s come-hither sound is its hidden statement. Besides the aftermath of a recent breakup and anxiety from a terrorist attack at her Manchester concert last year, she has found solace in unexpected love and sexual discovery. Between breaths on “Successful,” she recites addictive, sing-songy chants with a palpable smirk: “It’s a surprise, surprise.” On the title track, in between half-murmured details of a love’s physical power she sings about “hitting,” “twisting,” and “flipping it,” instructing her unnamed partner in a assertive, hazy tone that’s much more suggestive than one might expect. The lilt in her voice is playful and natural, like the entire project. She’s able to climb up to her signature high notes, but in quieting her projection, she adds an allure that manages not be overbearing.
“Pete Davidson,” named for her fiancé, is a brief interlude that fades out gradually. Grande lowers her voice with each repetition: “I’ma be happy, happy, yeah, gonna be happy, happy, yeah.” The crackling murmur of her voice here is hypnotic. She hiccups through each note, blending softly with a violin. You can almost hear her smiling to herself, and to listeners who wondered how she might crash and burn in the wake of her recent challenges. Surely, the sound of triumph in her voice is the sexiest thing of all.
