Austin Post “Malone” has an astonishing eight singles that have each sold 10m units (ie streamed 1.5bn times) in America. Alas, Circles, the most recent, is four years old, which may explain why Austin pivots away from the melodic, rap-adjacent aesthetic the Texas artist has perfected. As always when a musician gives an album their Christian name, it’s supposed to signify this is the real me, and it turns out the real Posty loves making nakedly commercial pop-rock. What lucky hap.
At first it’s a stunning success. Malone parlays his sad-eyed party animal shtick into something genuinely affecting on Don’t Understand. Something Real flexes on how great the pop star life is, while admitting it’s all depressing and pointless, then finds five syllables in the final word of “I could play that pussy like it’s Für Elise”. A work of art.
Although always listenable, Austin soon gets tired and whiny. Overdrive is particularly awful, like Westlife covering Mac Miller. And the album lacks the features that elevate Malone’s best work: no 21 Savage spraying filth over Rockstar; nothing as eye-boggling as Take What You Want, his epic power ballad with Ozzy Osbourne and Travis Scott. Disappointing.
