Vie might be Doja Cat at her most sincere

She produces, then abandons her own work with every news cycle – Hot Pink and Planet Her were “cash grabs” that her audience “fell for,” and Scarlet, her most recent, rap-focused album, was a “huge fart.” So what does that make Vie, perhaps her most sincere album? Is it even worth talking about if she’ll dismiss it in a couple of months? As it reveals, she feels turbulently about the whole thing too (go figure).

This cycle is irritating, for sure, but Doja Cat is the exemplary artist of the 2020s – primed for sticky virality whose lifetime lasts a few months, then dropped like an old newspaper. Her choruses are primed for maximum impact, whether it’s the exhausting baby talk on “Get Into It (Yuh)”, the boss-bitch commandeering on “Paint The Town Red”, or the light disco of “Say So”. There’s a lot of that on Vie, whether she’s lamenting that “it’s a crime to be gorgeous” or explaining the duality of men being both “ugly and fine as shit.” All of this makes Doja Cat an artist for a moment, and not for an era, but Vie’s 80s synth dress-up aims for a more coherent package than anything previously. It’s modestly successful, but the production is often claustrophobic and limits the overall vision.

The bizarre funk on “AAAHH MEN!”, the sparkles on “Gorgeous”, and the solid synthpop on “One More Time” (which could be a Carly Rae Jepsen B-side before she sharpens her voice into into a La Roux-like edge) all get the point across – that her palette is in the past. The record’s enthusiasm starts strong, but it wanes over time – there are only so many saxophone solos an album can take (Vie has 6). The imitation reaches its apex on “Jealous Type”, which roleplays Control and Rhythm Nation-era Janet Jackson New Jack Swing for a sugary result. But Janet was all punchy staccatos and unfiltered demands: there was no mistaking the message of a song like “Escapade” or “Miss You Much”. I mean this both in terms of both innuendo and enunciation: Doja’s muttered mumbling, a problem that has beleaguered previous hits, muddies the waters and dilutes the message. It’s a solid song, but as an homage, there’s a lot to be desired.

So, sure, Jack Antonoff certainly boxes Doja into a limited vision (same as he suffocated Sabrina Carpenter earlier this year) but often, their output is glamorous. “Wouldn’t it be fun if we went to a party?” she pleads like a caged housewife convincing her husband for some excitement before tossing out a child on “Silly! Fun!” If that song was blasé about the future, “Stranger” seriously considers someone down to watch White Lotus (and might be bisexual). “Acts of Service” and “Couples Therapy” earnestly reflect on relationships, whereas something like “AAAHH MEN!”, which samples RuPaul’s laugh, mixes her successful combination of wit and cutting ideas, this time lamenting the beauty of men with the ugliness of their minds, whether it’s misogyny or roid rage.

In fact, the record is full of her proficient and entertaining raps – it’s littered with vocal quips, inflections, and hooky turns of phrase that have propelled her to this level to begin with. Her flow can often be propulsive and deadly, and every so often, she strikes gold (“All Mine” and “AAAHH MEN!”). Even something like “Jealous Type”, one of Vie’s least cohesive mash of rap and pop, gets the job done; its closing track is a grounded ode for a lover to come back, even if it wrestles with the idea that it might not happen. But for all the standouts, the record’s back half is stuffed with unnoticeable trap songs to pad the runtime; they adhere very loosely to the 80s theme and reveal her and Antonoff weren’t married to this concept to begin with. “Lipstain” in particular dips toes in the 80s, 00s, and 20s (which makes for an interesting mix).

Doja Cat is, despite her often exasperating public persona and past controversies, maturing – Vie is proof. Its sonic concept is a little weak, but when else would she have wondered about changing her last name in one song and rapping “You love this butt, you so anal about it” in the next? Maybe love makes room for both sides of her personality.