On Harry Styles’ self-titled solo debut, he appears on the cover with his back to us, emerging from some body of water wearing a prominently-displayed necklace that features a lotus flower on it. The symbolism is clear: he was reborn a “rock star” in his own right after separating from One Direction. Channeling equal parts Elton John, David Bowie and Oasis, Styles emerged from the effluvium of his boy band years as a steady source of British brilliance (so often an oxymoron). And while he might have released a single called “Sign of the Times” in 2017, he had no idea how much more apropos it would come across in the post-COVID epoch. For it was just before the novel virus made its rounds that Styles released his sophomore record, Fine Line.
It was another critically acclaimed record that he would have toured extensively were it not for a global shutdown. And so, like many musicians and other celebrity ilk, Styles found himself with an empty schedule for the first time maybe ever since childhood. Rather than using the “gift of time” to record something else right away, Styles instead took advantage of spending his hours with the friends and family members he was previously so quick to “reschedule.” As he himself put it, “Eventually it’s just assumed you’re unable to be at stuff.” Having this epiphany while doing things like taking a lone road trip through Italy, Styles resolved, as numerous others, that he didn’t want to go back to the way it was “after” COVID (though, to be honest, has there really been an “after” as we continue simply to “live with” the contagion). Indeed, that’s what the crux of the lead single for Harry’s House, “As It Was,” speaks to. For it’s true—nothing is the same as it was. So why should we keep trying to pretend? (hint: for fat cats to keep benefitting from capitalism).
The title of the record, too, is very quarantine-influenced, with Styles also commenting on how it doubles for a day inside his proverbial mind palace. And in his mind, at a mere twenty-eight years old, he’s declaring, “Okay, I’m not the young thing, so I would really like to think about who I want to be as a musician.” Who he is continues to come across as that gender-bending (queerbaiting?) Elton John-esque figure we were introduced to on Fine Line.
And if “From the Dining Table” was a soothing slow jam to close out Harry Styles, “Music for a Sushi Restaurant” is an upbeat, ambient ditty designed to kick off a record filled with combinations and varieties as eclectic as, one supposes, a sushi menu. Side note: any sushi restaurant that doesn’t play this song at some point on their playlist is a fool. For it’s sure to bring all the gentrifying boys to the yard.
“Late Night Talking” then shifts the tack to Styles’ latest flame, Olivia Wilde, who directed the forthcoming Don’t Worry Darling, in which Styles plays Jack Chambers. This and “Cinema” in particular will get eyebrows raising regarding Styles’ muse this time around. Because if Fine Line (most notably, “Cherry”) was spurred by Camille Rowe, Styles finds a new inspiration in Olivia Wilde. You might say she’s his Joe Alwyn. And, like Taylor, one might say Olivia has a fetish for the Brits—but her excuse is more viable in that she was born to one. Specifically, Andrew Cockburn a.k.a. the editor of Harper’s Magazine. In other words, never forget that Wilde’s real last name is Cockburn, and that she kifed her stage name from Oscar. Perhaps as a result of spending so many summers in Ireland during her youth. In contrast to Styles, Wilde’s bougie lineage can be traced back to the height of the British Empire. So maybe some part of Styles is getting off on that “Uptown Girl” flavor…
Trading his “Watermelon Sugar’ for “Grapejuice,” he opens the latter with a whispering “one, two” that almost sounds as though he might finish it with “cha-cha-cha” like Madonna on “Medellín.” Instead, he concludes with “three.” His rock predilections are most pronounced on this song. And, as we know, “Kiwi” revealed Styles’ propensity for 00s-era British rock, giving off The Subways’ “Rock & Roll Queen” vibes in spades on that particular track. With “Grapejuice,” Styles keeps it more on the maudlin side, lyrically. For instance, when he describes, “I was on my way to buy some flowers for you/Thought that we could hide away in a corner of the heath [how Jane Austen]/There’s never been someone who’s so perfect for me.” Until someone even more perfect inevitably comes along. For now, however, it seems Olivia will suffice (but let’s see if Styles is feelin’ it when he starts to notice the age difference more palpably).
The intro itself sounds like an interpolation of Phantogram’s “When I’m Small,” and Harry makes plenty of references to the fact that “Grapejuice” is just another word for wine when he sings in the chorus, “A bottle of rouge/Just me and you.” There’s also a moment where he brings other colors in (Lana Del Rey-style) besides “red” into the mix, remarking, “I’m so over whites and pinks.” A dangerous statement to make in terms of reminding many that they’re so over Whites.
Next is the instant classic, “As It Was.” And, considering that the album cover for Harry’s House is an image of him in a topsy-turvy room, it’s safe to say that some aspect of that snapshot plays into Styles reminding us, “You know it’s not the same as it was.” By the same token, one could argue that our priorities in life were far more topsy-turvy before COVID, and that it’s actually for the best that things aren’t “the same.” Though not so different that we’ve managed to exist outside of capitalism. And why would someone like Styles want to?
Not to be taken as having any association with his ex’s song of the same name, “Daylight” is destined to become part of the annals of “Greatest Songs About Long Distance Relationships” (including Madonna’s “Miles Away”). Even if Styles says it was inspired by working late into the night. Yet once again, we can’t help but assume the song refers to Olivia Wilde. Not a different (former) girlfriend of his, like the aforementioned Taylor Swift. And where Taylor says on her “Daylight” of encountering “the one,” “Now I see daylight/I only see daylight,” Harry asserts that he rather dislikes the arrival of daylight because it means, wherever his lover is, it’s night, further accenting the distance. Yep, real Ladyhawke shit.
The slowed-down pace of “Little Freak” reminds one of the unique form of schizophrenia that comes when you’re still getting over a significant relationship but are involved in another new, promising one. Which is sort of what happened to Ariana Grande on thank u, next. While Styles might have devoted most of the songs on Harry’s House to Olivia, this one sounds more like another nod to Camille, complete with him admitting, “I disrespected you/Jumped in feet first and landed too hard/A broken ankle, karma rules.” Incidentally, Styles does mention that broken foot he had back in 2015 during his latest Zane Lowe interview. So he surely knows the pain of which he refers to metaphorically. Styles adds fondly, “I was thinkin’ about who you are/Your delicate point of view/I was thinkin’ about you/I’m not worried about where you are/Or who you will go home to/I’m just thinkin’ about you.
The even more melancholy “Matilda” succeeds “Little Freak.” And we all know that it’s almost impossible to hear that name and not think of the eponymous Roald Dahl character that Mara Wilson portrayed in the 1996 adaptation. Nonetheless, most are again quick to associate the lyrics with Rowe, as well as drawing the connection between the song’s title and the fact that Rowe portrayed a character named Matilda in Now Is Everything, which came out the same year as Fine Line. But Styles is adamant that the track is actually a response to “someone else’s” experience. But also, you know, Matilda’s—imagining her as an adult and telling her that it’s okay to say fuck off to the family that treated her like shit (e.g., “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/You don’t have to be sorry for leavin’ and growin’ up”).
So apparently, he’s doing that Tay thing where he takes the spirit of country music and creates a tragic narrative that has nothing to do with himself (so he says). There’s a dash of “Hey Jude” to the structure of the song as well, in that Styles is assuring a grown-up Matilda that she can take a sad song and make it better by having a family of her own and being the kind of parent to show love and acceptance the way her own never did. The theme and lyrics remind one of Allie X and Troye Sivan’s heart-wrenching “Love Me Wrong” and even Olivia Rodrigo’s “hope ur ok,” both of which address children with parents who were either outrightly cruel or simply didn’t know how to love in an accepting, nurturing way. This, in part, is why Styles chooses not to use any gendered pronouns—because this is a phenomenon that applies to children of every variety.
With an echo-y intro that declares, “You got, you got the cinema,” “Cinema” is the most blatant nod to Styles’ current boo. And, after all, she even hired him to be in her much-anticipated movie, Don’t Worry Darling (Styles alludes to said title by using the word “darling” in this song). With its very 70s-era porno sound, it seems Styles wants to show his appreciation for that casting vote of confidence, declaring, among other salacious things, “You got, you got the cinema/I bring the pop to the cinema/You pop when we get intimate.” It’s a bit gross, to be honest. And it’s hard to know if it’s even worse when he becomes more cheesy than sleazy, via the lines, “I just think you’re cool/I dig your cinema/Do you think I’m cool too?/Or am I too into you?”
Clearly yes, as he keeps prattling on about how great the relationship is on “Daydreaming.” Sampling from “Ain’t We Funkin’ Now” by The Brothers Johnson, there’s a James Brown-esque shriek at the end, as though Styles wants to assert that despite his dabbling with femme aesthetics, he’s masc through and through. And, to prove it, John “Creepoid” Mayer plays electric guitar on the track (as he also does for “Cinema”). Styles rips lyrics from two more well-known iconic musicians in wielding, “Something in the way you move” and “Give me all of your love” (iterations of The Beatles and Madonna, respectively). But a lack of originality is to be expected on a song as trite as this, right down to the repetition of “ba-de-ah-ba-ba-ba-ba.”
More than likely inspired by his solo road trip in Italy, the mid-tempo “Keep Driving” provides not only a literal depiction, but a metaphor for driving past chaos in that type of way that Homer Simpson subtly backs into the bushes to excuse himself from the crazy. At the same time, the fact that so many of us prefer to do just that—drive past the crazy—is part of why it continues to escalate. Things like, “Tea with cyborgs/Riot America/Science and edibles/Life hacks going viral in the bathroom”—that latter phenomenon getting particularly batshit during the lockdown period.
But Styles also describes the Lynchian wet dream of diners that can be visited on these types of road trips when he sings, “Maple syrup, coffee/Pancakes for two/Hash brown, egg yolk.” Then again, it’s more likely Harry prefers these things in his own kitchen, after having spent the night railing Olivia Wilde.
The ambient intro to “Satellite” is perhaps as close to anything Bowie’s done (sonically) that Styles will ever achieve… for about the first twenty-eight seconds. And there is that certain “ground control to Major Tom” quality to the motif as Styles likens himself to being a satellite, forced to observe the aloof object of his affection from afar (again, this sounds like how Olivia would act at the beginning of this whole affair). Announcing, “I’m in an L.A. mood/I don’t wanna talk to you” (sounds more like a New York mood if that’s the case), Styles bemoans being suddenly “pulled in” by someone who says, “Give me a day or two” and makes him go ’round and ’round…/Spinnin’ out, waitin’ for ya to pull me in/I can see you’re lonely down there/Don’t you know that I am right here?” It’s borderline stalkerish, but there’s always a fine line between that and being “sweet.”
Styles continues with the empathy for women shtick on “Boyfriends.” Yet it sounds more like a defense for men being dickheads who don’t know any better because their gender itself is essentially a cognitive disability. So it is that Harry croons with a stripped-down acoustic guitar backing him, “Boyfriends, they think you’re so easy/They take you for granted/They don’t know, they’re just misunderstanding.” Cool… thanks for that totally useful insight. Alas, Harry can only admit to the issue of men being straight-up mentally ill, but not really explain why. Just as there’s no good reason for him to flip-flop back to loosely pining for Rowe on the album’s closer, “Love of My Life.” During, which, to Olivia’s dismay, Styles pulls a The Weeknd with Bella Hadid and seems to confess to Rowe, “Baby, you were the love of my life/Woah, maybe you don’t know it’s lost till you find it.” Then again, he did tell Zane Lowe that the song is about England, so no, probably not something the other Harry wants to listen to.
A slew of simple piano notes round out the song, and we’re left locked outside of the house again. But if Juno (Ellen Page) accused Katrina De Voort’s abode of smelling like soup in the movie of the same name, we can perhaps assess Harry’s house as possessing a scent that’s less classifiable, filled with head and middle notes of empathy (at times too feigned) and base notes of just a boy standing in front of a girl asking him to love her. Despite all his flaws (that none of his fans can see, of course). Because everyone is ultimately looking for their home in the feeling they get with another person (hear: Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros’ “Home”).
With Harry’s House being based on that very cliché concept—that “home” isn’t a physical place (unless you’re Billie Eilish)—Styles remarked, “It took time for me to realize that the house wasn’t a geographical location, it was an internal thing.” File it under another case of celebrities who grew up in the spotlight being a little slow on the uptake about “regular people revelations.”
