Conan Gray's 'Superache' Is For The Hopeless and Hopeful Romantics
Photo: Brian Ziff
I always think I’ve moved past my heartbreaks, then Conan Gray puts out a song, and suddenly my heartstrings are being tugged down memory lane, Apple Photos are prompting me with a feature-length film about that time I was with that person, and my TikTok FYP is bombarded with tarot girlies telling me that if I claim their message he’s coming back. After prepping us with a string of five singles throughout 2021 and 2022, including the heart-wrenching anthem “Yours” and pop-rock diary entry “Jigsaw,” the 23-year-old singer-songwriter has released his sophomore album Superache just in time for sad girl summer.
Moving on from an ex is one thing, but moving on from an ex you never even officially ‘dated’ is an entirely different (and arguably worst) feat. You are mourning the loss of an idea of a person, the intangible 'what-ifs' and 'what could have beens,' the unanswered questions, and the lack of closure. Throughout 12 songs laced with painstaking vulnerability, Gray eloquently expresses the conflicting emotions that come with the initial stages of heartbreak.
Through his lyricism, Gray is consistently and unapologetically himself, and I think that’s what makes his music so relatable to anyone who has ever had a crush or has otherwise dealt with personal hardships. Whether it be in the project’s first track “Movies,” where he admits to falling in love with a fantasy and living life in fiction or getting personal with his upbringing and how it has impacted his platonic and romantic relationships in “Family Line,” the inevitable pop star writes with a level of sincerity that always—and especially in Superache—feels special to hear.
Production-wise, Gray's sophomore effort stays true to his sad-boy-indie-pop sound, while leaving room for experimentation with the rock-adjacent “Jigsaw” and the '80s synth-pop infused “Disaster.” “Disaster” is an automatic standout, picking up the album’s pace as Gray sings about the all-too-relatable narrative of being scared to get romantically involved with someone because of all that could go wrong. Are you misreading their intentions? Or is your anxiety just getting the best of you? Despite its melancholic themes, “Disaster” disguises them in upbeat synths and electronic drum kits, leaving space for a dance break before getting into the proper ~feels~ of the rest of the project.
“Footnote” is another standout. Instrumentally and thematically, it feels like it could be a bonus track on Kid Krow. The narrative is similar to that of “Jigsaw” and “The Cut That Always Bleeds,” where Gray is coming to accept that, despite his crush not liking him back, he will take what he can get (and it isn’t much). He compares himself to being something as little as a footnote in their story, while they are the main character in his. Between acoustic guitars reminiscent of “Heather” he sings, “So I'll just take a footnote in your life / And you could take my body every line / I would write for you / But a footnote will do.”
From the choral harmonies in “People Watching” to the angelic falsetto in “Astronomy,” Gray’s vocals on Superache are impressive as ever. He ends the project with the fittingly titled “The Exit,” where he watches his ex move on while he remains where the album started: getting over the initial heartbreak. While the narrative ultimately concludes on the same note it began, “The Exit” feels like the 2.0 super-version of Conan Gray: everything, from the vocals, instrumentation, to the writing, is a culmination of his growth since Sunset Season, and I couldn’t be any more proud to be a fan of what he's accomplished and yet to accomplish.
Listen to Superache below:
