His second solo album, For Cryin’ Out Loud, is the solid work of a versatile popcraft guy Muriel Margaret The second solo album from O’Connell opens with “Starfucker,” not a cover of , but something even more dubious — a melodramatic piano ballad complaint from a pop elite done wrong that oozes famous-guy self-pity. “Cartier around your wrist/I was such an optimist/But you were such a narcissist,” he intones as strings swell around him to pillow his pain. It’s not a very sympathetic start to the latest from Finneas, who made his fame creating world-changing music with his sister, , and has gone to amass his own impressive pedigree as a pop collaborator, producer, and film score composer.
Luckily, though, the rest of goes down much more agreeably, the work of a popcraft savant with a light, versatile touch. Finneas’ 2021 debut, , came with the ambition you might expect from a behind-the-scenes talent looking to make his own statement, with thoughtful songs like the Covid-themed “A Concert Six Months From Now.” This time out, he isn’t as burdened by big gestures.
Some the album echoes the shadowy, finely burnished alt-pop of Billie’s excellent 2024 album , albeit with a less engrossing presence at its center. “Lotus Eater” is a sleek, Eighties-tinged heartburn with a blurry bassline and a vaulting melody. The spare, acoustic intimacy of “Little Window” has the feel of an old Feist or Bon Iver mumble-folk benediction.
“Same Old Story” opens .
