HAIM is back! But They Quit...
A review of their new album
A couple of weeks ago, I called the new Japanese Breakfast record my favorite album of the year so far, and while this new release from Haim, entitled I Quit, does not alter that assessment, it is interesting to see these musical sisters following a trajectory that seems (to me) similar to that of Michelle Zauner’s band. The two bands are very different stylistically, but stick with me. Haim could have given us a summer record full of bangers, a sequel to the magnificent pop opus that was Women in Music Pt. III, their previous album. Instead, like Japanese Breakfast, they’ve offered us something more elusive and less immediately gratifying: a record that's a slow burn, that doesn’t tip its hand right away.
There's a deep, weary emotional intelligence at play here. Make no mistake: this is a breakup record, with all of the small, corrosive details of a dying relationship and the quiet moments of resignation. The breakup sentiments are delivered with little drama, and that’s what makes the record ultimately effective: you can feel the exhaustion, the sense of a promise bending and breaking until there's nothing left.
I’m reminded of the track “Leaning On You” from the previous record, and specifically the lyrical admission that “It takes all that I’ve got / Not to fuck this up.” On this album, we have moved past that burden, that effort to please.
The production on the album trades the immediacy of their earlier work for something more layered and complex. You’ll hear vintage synths, delicate percussion, and various guitar textures that weave through the songs. It’s a sonic palette that feels both new and familiar. You can hear the influence of Stevie Nicks’ vocals, but Danielle Haim brings her own cards to the table. She has a great voice, but she sounds like no one else.
But perhaps the most striking thing about I Quit is its willingness to be messy. The sisters play with persona and irony, but it never feels like a joke:
So we could keep on trying,
Or we could sell the farm,
Just buy me out.
They aren’t limiting their options, but they are done. Then there's the defiant, yet vulnerable, message of "Everybody's Trying to Figure Me Out." Here, the band confronts the pressure of public perception head-on with a quiet assertion of defiance, a refusal to be defined by anyone else's expectations.
HAIM has always been about more than the music; they’re a family, a project, a kind of shared language. On I Quit, you get a sense of that bond holding everything together, a quiet strength beneath the shifting sonic landscapes. Like Beyonce’s Lemonade, Jackson Browne’s I’m Alive, and even Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks, this is a record that acknowledges the lessons of the past while moving forward to something new. I’ll be following them with great interest.
Thanks for reading, from my fancy internet microphone to yours.
