In the music video of “Revolving door,” track three of Tate McRae’s newest album release, we watch as McRae seemingly repeats over and over again a dance sequence until her knees are red. She sings around past half of the two minute mark, “I need a minute,” over and over again. We watch as she grows frantic; her actions reversing, as she eventually curls up, sobbing on the blank, empty floor.
Then it is a minute later. And just as she promised, she picks herself up. Wrapping a white linen shirt around herself, she looks off-screen, her eyes raw and teary, and asks, “Again?” Then, placing one white pump-clad foot in front of the other, she starts all over again.
Evident through the music video of “Revolving door” alone, it is clear: Tate McRae knows how to perform, and she knows who she is. Her newest album, “So Close to What,” is proof of that. Spanning 15 tracks, the album stays consistent and never loses focus; it remains bold, sassy, and sparks reminders of the 2000s.
Almost every track on the album is a declaration — from prerelease single “It’s ok I’m ok,” in which McRae declares “You can have him anyway,” to “I know love,” which features her boyfriend and fellow artist, The Kid LAROI, in which both announce that they know love. Prerelease single “2 hands” is sultry and driven in its drums and sirens, while “Nostalgia” shows McRae’s thoughts on a deeper level.
McRae doesn’t forget to remind us of the very thing that launched her to fame in the first place: her songwriting prowess. In “Purple lace bra,” McRae makes a direct reference to the provocative purple lace bra she wears in her music video “It’s ok I’m ok,” which caused a media uproar.
A part of McRae’s image is sensuality — she’s often seen in skin-tight clothes, lacy bras and short skirts. She’s been likened to other young, extremely conventionally attractive women, who many seem to only notice for looks and not talent. “Purple lace bra” echoes that same sentiment, but from the first-hand account of a woman facing that exact notion.
Specifically, the fear that she is only truly heard when sexualizing herself, that perhaps she needs to be heard (“I’m losing my mind cause giving you head’s / the only time you think I’ve got depth”). The song doesn’t provide any answers, but it raises questions. Perhaps that’s better, because those questions should be discussed.
Music critics have been eager to compare Tate McRae to 2000s icons, especially Britney Spears. They’ve got a point: she’s gorgeous, she can sing, she can dance. She’s got undeniable talent and charm. But she’s also something more. She’s herself. But we all knew that in the first place, and we shouldn’t forget that.
