At the time of writing this, Harry Styles has 71.5 million followers on Spotify and over 618.5 million listening streams of lead single ‘As It Was’, taken from his third album proper in 5 years since becoming a solo artist. That is quite an achievement, especially when you know that said single was released just over 4 weeks ago. Of course, the number of plays or sales of any album is, in and of itself, not a guarantee of quality or memorability. However, in Harry’s case, it is possible to make a big, beaming exception. 

I was not sold initially on Harry’s classic pop/rock axis with over-produced songs like ‘Sign of the Times’ and everything sounding a little too grown up for its own good. I personally craved a slice of pure pop shenanigans, the kind you received from One Direction but with more lyrical substance, less homage to 70’s icons and more of Harry’s likeable personality. Later, I stumbled, a little late to the game, over ‘Fine Line’ during the height of lockdown and I was smitten from the opening chords of ‘Golden’ and head over heels following the heady euphoria of ‘Lights Up’. I raved about Mr Styles to anyone who would listen and, as expected, it was only the students at my school who seemed to get it, who realised that this was more than a fly by night flash in the pan : excuse the idioms! Good looking, nay GORGEOUS, as he is, there is real substance and depth behind his songs that, from the off, are incredibly memorable. Earworms abound, everywhere. 

This approach is defined expertly on ‘Harry’s House’, containing 13 songs and clocking in at just under 42 minutes in length. It is not faultless - yet, as some pop albums appear and depart from our consciousness as quickly as their day-glo sleeves invade our privacy, this release proves that longevity is part of Harry’s raison d’etre. Lyrically, he mixes coy humour with confessional navel-gazing but not just for the sake of it, coupled with celebratory, eyes wide smile choruses. Producers and co-songwriters Tyler Johnson and Kid Harpoon are largely responsible for injecting that winning combination of catchy hooks juxtaposed with more downbeat, lovelorn numbers, as evidenced by the bubbling and sweet contrast between ‘Late Night Talking’ and ‘Matilda’, where fulsome energy sidles up alongside lovelorn reflection with more than just a hint of Laurel Canyon in its lovelorn chorus (“You can let it go / You can throw a party full of everyone you know / And not invite your family…cause they never showed you love”). His voice, on these ballads, well that is a whispered thing of falsetto-tinged beauty, that descends into tender baritone, infused with melancholy. Time to go back to that opening quartet of ballsy brilliance!!

‘Music for a Sushi Restaurant’ sashays into view and disrupts expectations with its delicious, lascivious selection of bon mots : “Green eyes, fried rice, I could cook an egg on you”, essaying forth with a frenetic pre-chorus, followed by that ‘Kick Horns’ sound we used to hear on Robert Palmer records in the mid-80’s, ba-ba-bas to the front, a descending middle 8 with lines like “if the stars were edible” that up the stakes with magic realism as a force for good. This is such a tightly constructed smasher that you, lucky listener, almost forget how brilliant everything all is, with ‘Late Night Talking’ and its fuzzy effervescence that immediately seduces (“If you’re feeling down / I just want to make you happier baby”) and pulls you into Harry’s positivity slipstream, its permanent chorus lodging into your brain with unseemly ease. Two down: so far, so excellent.

‘Grapejuice’ is, perhaps, a missed opportunity. It is fine, of course, but a little in thrall to its predecessors, in creating a ‘sound’ that retains that classic edge, yet ends up sounding a little lumpen and directionless. Compared to what has exploded into your cranium over the preceding six minutes it limps along a little. However, however, ubiquity beckons with ‘As It Was’, a tune that has already soundtracked a thousand TikTok videos and is accompanied by a glorious, resplendent video with Harry clad in shiny red, sequins, slicked down hair and some sleek, pirouetting moves. The song is deceptive : a verse into chorus standard, that refuses to fully ignite and contains introspective lyrics (“Harry, you’re no good alone / Why are you sitting at home on the floor?/ What kind of pills are you on?”) you wouldn’t necessarily expect from such a megastar who must be awash with admirers and friends. Yet he reflects that “in this world / it’s just us” and this may indicate that the glaring spotlight is not everything it is cracked up to be ; he prefers intimacy to adulation, perhaps?

‘Daylight’ expands upon relationships and their impermanent nature, especially for someone caught up (perhaps reluctantly) in the celebrity carousel. He imagines scenarios from a perfect love affair where rejection may be just around the corner  - “Dip you in honey / so I could be sticking to you” coupled with “I hope you’re missing me by now”. The insecurity is all too apparent here. Subtly followed by ‘Little Freak’ and ‘Matilda’, two songs that highlight Harry’s delicate vocals, both undemonstrative yet full to the brim with indefinable sadness, like all the greatest balladery. In the former, he intones “I was thinking about you // I’m not worried about where you are // Just thinking about you”, ever the romantic, not pushing it too far forward, reclining in regret and a touch of hopelessness…  In the latter, he pleads (gently) “You can let it go” whilst instructing her that she doesn’t “have to go home” - it’s the sweetest, soulful section of the album and, in my opinion, cements his status as a songwriter for the past, present and future, so astute and tuned in is he to the tangents, dips and dives of modern relationships and interactions between lovers, friends and family. And this, friends, is what sets him apart from the Biebers of this world : back to that substance thing again. 

‘Cinema’ is lissom and slyly funky, minimalist in approach, allowing its grooves to breathe, something Daft Punk would be proud of, with chopped up guitar riffs shimmying against a bass bump, then leaving a Nile Rodgers breakdown with “You got / I bring the pop / you pop” repeating in glorious harmony. This really is POP at its most perfect. I can see myself grooving to this in a glade some special where, early hours, dreams cascading in waterfalls around my feet. The pace ups a little, as does the euphoria level, with the confection of ‘Daydreaming’, those ‘badeyah / ba ba ba ba bahs!!’ hitting you full cerebellum, Harry’s backing vocals intoning “Give me all of your love, give me something to dream about”, its descending piano chord outro meeting demand and more. 

Blimey - the ‘potential’ hits just keep coming, still intimate, still imploring on ‘Keep Driving’ (“Coffee, pancakes for two”) and those indefinably brilliant lyrics “Passports in foot wells / Life hacks going viral in the bathroom” that reveal he has his finger firmly on the pulse of Generation Z. ‘Satellite’ starts out reflective, moody, swiftly transported into a circle of love and space dust (“Spinnin’ out , waitin’ for ya’ to pull me in”), diving into an explosive middle eight that generates bright blue, orange and emerald fireworks, next free-falling into a death-defying final chorus, trying to seek that connection, somehow. ‘Boyfriends’ is like a 21st century Joni Mitchell, its folksy charms replete with the extended ‘You’s’ that evoke sun-dappled city streets, looking up, yearning for change and the elusive nature of love - where does it begin and end… “You lay with him as you stay in a daydream” - how close is that to evoking the sometimes ephemeral nature of young love, of any love?

‘Love of My Life’ concludes proceedings in a suitably epic, yet restrained way, where guitars are (thankfully) replaced by squidgy keyboards and multi-tracked vocals. The subject matter is a love now lost (“It’s not what I wanted / to leave you behind”) but he offers hope by offering ‘Don’t know where you’ll land when you fly’, ending with a simple piano refrain.

This is pop shorn of excess, glorying in the moment, beaming, celebrating, full of sweet desolation, yet offering shipping containers full of hope, in multifarious colour schemes, which somehow manages to shift the musical landscape on its own axis for no reason other than that this is a collection of flipping AMAZING tunes that make life worth living. Over and over, again, off into that red, orange, endless sunset. You just know that your days will begin and end with smiles if ‘Harry’s House’ is your soundtrack : what a place to be! 

Hugh Ogilvie.