Shura
I Got Too Sad for My Friends
PIAS
The period of COVID lockdown was an isolating one. There have been plenty of speculations on just how this moment affected all of us, but one common thread is the sense of loneliness that pervaded our experiences while confined to our homes. It’s prevalent throughout Shura’s third album I Got Too Sad for My Friends, a half-joking title that tackles isolation, writer’s block, and illness. It’s undoubtedly the most intimate album the artist has released to date, where the electro-pop and dreamy grooves are dotted less frequently amid rich ’60s-style folk-pop. It makes for an instantly inviting space from the start, and the coffee-shop psychedelics on second track “Leonard Street” are reminiscent of a DayGlo vibe you might expect on a Drugdealer track. There’s almost a sense of quiet shyness to the song, such is the whispered intimacy of Shura’s vocals.
There’s plenty of trepidation across Too Sad, where for various reasons Shura retreats into a more insular version of herself—so much so that self-doubt feels like a secondary character on the album. Her anxieties manifest as an inner monologue, which she’s all too aware of. “There’s a voice in my head and it’s loud, don’t want to listen to it all night / Telling me that I’m a loser,” she sings on “World’s Worst Girlfriend.” All of this leads into a great sense of uncertainty across the record affecting not only Shura’s sense of self, but her relationships, too, as heard on “If You Don’t Believe in Love.” “I’m so tired of spending all night in my head,” she bemoans on album closer “Bad Kid,” though there’s a genuine willingness across the album for Shura to coax herself out of any rut. The one great moment of confidence lands during “I Wanna Be Loved by You,” which repeats a simple declaration that we all feel at some point in our lives, embellished with a bellowing symphony during the chorus. It’s proud, it’s powerful, and should probably have closed the album.
Although I Got Too Sad for My Friends maintains a warm and intimate feel, it doesn’t make for the most exciting chapter of Shura’s career. It’s an album for those who like a slower pace, and it speaks to the more withdrawn sense of self Shura has experienced. The inescapable synth head rushes of Forevher are largely replaced by familiar trends within indie pop over the last few years—you could easily fit some of these riffs into a contemporary record such as Clairo’s Immunity. These songs are likable and well-written, but they may struggle to distinguish Shura in the same way the deftly rich and energetic tones of her previous work did.
