Billie Eilish - HIT ME HARD AND SOFT Review

On an unsuspecting Friday in May, Billie Eilish dropped her third studio album – ten tracks with no teaser material or context to, as it were, throw her fans in at the deep end. HIT ME HARD AND SOFT swims into the titillating streams of fear, love and intimacy, and the dark, oily pools of a queer 22-year-old whose every move is scrutinised and tracked and whose discography includes Oscar wins and pitch-perfect indie-music iridescence. Where would anybody go from there? Billie takes more time to figure it out – the average song length almost 4 and a half minutes, showing a skilled musician happily at play. 2024 the year of lukewarm pop tracks bouncing round retail havens – Sabrina Carpenter’s Espresso is still at number one in the UK – Billie is playing an entirely different game. She rises above the demands of an industry moulding from the iterative zombification of online trends and tik-tok releases to surface an expertly produced masterpiece, all in one big exhale.

The record begins with ‘SKINNY’, a lamenting piece on body image with a second half that soars thanks to the addition of the Attacca quartet. Billie rallies intentionally against the exacerbation of her body dysmorphia by the media. Yet, even with this albums’ release, respectable journalistic bodies like The Independent use Billie’s dynamic, shifting style as click-bait to deep-dive into her artistry – ‘Are we finally seeing the artist behind the baggy-goth avatar?’ their tagline reads from May 16th. Some battles never cease. We must continue to open up the conversations with such honesty, Billie shows. How else will change happen?

In the style of sly meta-textuality, the aptly named ‘LUNCH’ follows. With growling bass, smiling vocals, and a drive so central to the prior success of pounding track ‘bad guy’, Billie explores her queer desire alongside clap tracks and synth flourishes. Embracing sexuality and transparency, Billie is already on record noting how she should have a ‘Phd in masturbation’. This song is a thrill to listen to, and is so important considering the platform Billie has, especially with younger demographics. Hear this hummed in a high school cloak-room and watch the world change incrementally through half-giggles and belly flutters, through the recognition that there can be simple fun behind the fear.

There’s an element of Daft Punk in her five-minute groove ‘CHIHIRO’, which thrums with purpose and is a personal first favourite, so sexy and steady with enough held back to maintain gracefulness. ‘BIRDS OF A FEATHER’ is also a surprise, performed in a sweeping major, in which Eilish promises to ‘love you til the day that I die’. ‘WILDFLOWER’ tones the experimentation down and takes the record back to the subdued sound from her 2021 album. A sequel to viral sensation and grunge-core pop-ballad ‘happier than ever’, here Eilish weaves an intricate story with little context and deft lyricism, with purposefully restrained bursts of instrumentation forming like a pretty mosaic behind. Eilish takes inspiration from her fellow female stars; in this song she elongates her vowels in Hayley Williams-esque vocals, whilst ‘THE GREATEST’ transforms from Olivia Rodrigo ballad to PJ Harvey instrumentation.

In ‘L’AMOUR DE MA VIE’, Billie’s voice sounds like she has laughter in her throat as she sings ‘I told you a lie when I said you were the love of my life’. Over the jazzy hi-hat she reassures us with a startling use of autotune that she can have it all. Ex-boyfriend Jessie Rutherford from ‘The Neighbourhood’ might especially have a lump in his throat here.

Following this, the two-track run of ‘THE DINER’ and ‘BITTERSUITE’ conjure the cold blink of police lights in an A24 thriller. The first sees echoing vocals submerged in a wicked use of synth; we are finally transported to the deep blue of the album art, the belly of ominous, deep-water alien trench. The latter song is an intentionally contemplative investigation into embodiment and disassociation. Some of the most beautiful lyrics on the album commence: ‘you were in the foyer, I was on my knees, outside of my body, watching from above’. Billie’s songwriting has improved with that faint glow only practice and dedication can emit. The song has the cadence of a heartbeat, bringing into focus openings and closings, endings and beginnings, track slowing with the projected gait of her character slicing through the thicket of the subconscious, great deep bellows of lethargy as sound in its infancy. This is the soundscape of Eilish peeling off her in-the-spotlight alter-ego.

Here, the finale: many superfans might recognise ‘BLUE’, a glamourous reapproach to a previous song named ‘True Blue’ that would often sneak onto a setlist. Billie has spoken previously on the frustration of work being leaked. Now, she ends as she starts – on her own terms. Sat at the intersection of love, loss and depression, in true Billie style this track references each of the previous nine tracks through its lyrics, whilst still presenting provoking commentary on the space she occupies: ‘you were born reaching for your mothers hands, victim of your fathers plans to rule the world’.

It’s a gorgeous, melodramatic song, one of the best in her repertoire. However, fans have found another piece of information to obsess over – the closing words jolt in with an auto-tuned, sped-up voice interjecting ‘but when can I hear the next one?’. It may, as many hope, gesture to a part two, but this speculation into an abyss when we have the whole ocean to kick-flip through shows, to me, Billie turning the record inside out. When is enough, enough? Will it ever be enough? The imposition of the critic and the insatiable fan rounds out her greatest album to date. See how you can make a good thing something that it isn’t, she asks here, see how we climb a mountain for the view and suddenly want the clouds?

For the first time, Billie sounds wonderfully satisfied with herself on this record. The lyrics are full of warm internal rhymes and evocative stories, brother Finneas’ production is outrageously good (Jack Antonoff watch your back), and the vision is executed boldly with a salivating grin. It’s not an exaggeration to say that there is no one as important in this scene as Billie right now. From the unapologetic embracement of queer desire to the refinement of the way we experience music, contextualities and archival relationships, this album is a piece of history. So, dive right in.