Review: Still - Erika de Casier
On her third album, Erika de Casier takes glossy R&B and Y2K pop maximalism and reinterprets them for the post-internet age, where the home can be just as sweltering as the club. - Connor Ferguson
Key Tracks:
“Lucky” (lead single)
“Believe It” (Connor’s selection)
“ooh” (Hadley’s selection)
On “Right This Way”, the brief opening track of her third studio album Still, Erika de Casier plays the part of a gracious host. She asks how you’re doing, introduces you to the attendees, laughs at your jokes, inquires how you would like the night to go, and brings you into the world of the record with a sultry invitation: “Welcome to my party […] Right this way.”
In some ways, this feels like an exclusive, word-of-mouth sort of event, thanks in part to de Casier’s many years as a fixture of the underground and alternative R&B scene. de Casier originally started recording music as part of the Denmark-based electronic duo Saint Cava in the mid 2010s; in 2017 she began gesturing toward a solo career with the dance single “What U Wanna Do?”, and delivered on her potential in 2019 with the now cult classic Essentials, a collection of throwback R&B and club tracks filtered through a bedroom pop production style, independently released for a bit more street cred. While de Casier’s move to the independent juggernaut label 4AD for her quiet storm inspired sophomore record Sensational seemed to set de Casier up for even broader success, de Casier’s crossover moment arrived not through her own music, but through the world of K-pop: superstar group NewJeans needed a crossover mainstream hit, and when they decamped to de Casier’s home of Copenhagen for a songwriting retreat, de Casier struck gold with “Super Shy”. The success of this track (and others written for NewJeans) positioned de Casier at a new threshold of relevance and resource; she could leave the insular space of the bedroom behind for broader horizons, if she so desired.
“Right This Way” suggests that broadening, but it turns out to be a bit of a narrative feint. On first proper track “Home Alone”, de Casier fully shows her hand to her invitee: “Me, I got nothin’ to do, but I could think of one thing or two / I’m home alone, and I got no plans / put your hands on my body like damn / you know why I’m really calling.” This is a party for two; everything has been prepared for you; she’s here for what you want, yes, but is also here for what she wants. This feint along with lusher and more complex production reveals, instead of a broadening of scope, a deepening of style and vision for de Casier, who takes the sounds of glossy R&B and Y2K pop maximalism and reinterprets them for the post-internet age, where the home can be just as sweltering as the club.
What is immediately apparent upon listening to Still, beyond its reference points and aesthetic style, is de Casier’s newfound confidence as a songwriter and as a performer. While Essentials and Sensational were comfortable in their throwbacks and sendups to turn-of-the-millenium radio and club-fare (the spirits of Destiny’s Child and TLC are immediately recognizable in the sounds of those albums), Still chooses to subvert specific trends in equal measure. It wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination to compare de Casier’s approach to song construction and performance to the likes of Aaliyah, particularly her sophomore record One in a Million, which was co-written and produced by Timbaland, Missy Elliot, and Aaliyah herself; that record straddled the lines of shifting genres like neo-soul, trip hop, and contemporary R&B with a futuristic flourish. de Casier achieves something similar on Still, capturing the past while envisioning the future through hybridizations of the Y2K aesthetic and the resurgence of ambient club music since the start of the 2020s. This is apparent on lead single “Lucky”, with its fluttering piano leads and sweet melodies chronicling new romance, eventually blooming into a drum & bass confessional that recalls Everything But the Girl’s 1996 album Walking Wounded. When the kick drum increases in intensity during the final stretch of the song, de Casier’s desire and vulnerability are palpable.
de Casier’s vulnerability, which inundates the entire record’s duration, is paramount to the confidence that defines Still and separates it from other throwback-style records released by her peers over the last few years. While a fiery, emotionally open righteousness animated albums like SZA’s SOS and Kelela’s Raven (exemplary albums in their own right), de Casier’s take is softer, coyer, airier, sweeter, managing to maintain a commanding presence even while exploring those registers. On acoustic guitar-led “The Princess”, de Casier’s lyrics reflect the bareness of the instrumentation, a surprisingly raw and direct distillation of de Casier’s whole romantic ethos: “I want it all / I wanna have both / I wanna do it hard and I wanna make love”. Or take, for example, the duo of songs at the heart of Still, “ooh” and “Believe It”. At first blush, “ooh” is a total banger, a song referencing “Toxic”-era Britney Spears and mid-2000s diva R&B, de Casier engaging with a lover she knows is probably not good for her with attitude to spare (“it’s okay, it’s just drama, baby”). As the song moves forward, though, de Casier spends time explaining what she wants and needs out of a romantic partner so her candidate is in the know, a generous offering of the self even while the G-funk synths and syncopated percussion carry the track into an outro that would have certainly bumped in the club twenty years ago; asking for what you need, de Casier argues, is sexy. On “Believe It”, de Casier samples and slows down a Placid Angle’s bassline for a simmering, zero gravity make-out jam. Full of purple skies, exposed waists, sun-kissed skin, and stolen glances, the song’s narrative sounds like a dream, until de Casier admits her insecurity in the chorus and requests: “Make me see it/ Make me believe it”; ultimately, the song ends with an aqueous bridge full of regret and longing, its bassline drifting out of focus. Sometimes, the yearning is as good as the real thing.
Hand in hand with this vulnerability, though, is the truth that de Casier is also an incredibly funny artist. This has been true since her debut (the phubbing callout “Good Time” has aged, perhaps, a little too well), but on Still, de Casier weaponizes humor as a texture that elevates songs beyond their surface level. Humor can create tension when it is situated against seriousness, earnestness, and desperation, and while similarly minded throwback records like Ariana Grande’s eternal sunshine attempt to capture this tension, more often than not the music is too polished to the point that it becomes impenetrable. de Casier, however, is in on the joke, which strengthens the humor and seriousness simultaneously present. de Casier has dated her fair share of players, it seems, and on the track “Test It”, de Casier is not only a willing participant, she’s matching the player’s energy. When she realizes that it may only be a fling, she shrugs her shoulders, admits that she gets it, and offers: “Matter of fact, let me give you a sample to take home.” On late album highlight “Ex-Girlfriend” (featuring a menacing and dismissive Shygirl), backed by a goth choir while singing about teasingly calling up an ex, de Casier laughs at herself for touching an old flame that’s better left extinguished, her “whoops” a wink both to her audience and to her subject. Across Still, de Casier compares her relationships to the thriller genre, ignored work emails, and overclocked shifts, managing to capture modern day, online courtship with just the right amount of tongue-in-cheek delivery. de Casier may be too cool for you, but not cool enough to avoid making some mistakes.
Despite the overall strengths of Still, though, it’s not a perfect album. In the great tradition of the R&B and pop records de Casier so clearly reveres, the second half of Still has some pacing issues thanks to an overabundance of mid-tempo tracks; while this is a feature rather than a flaw for this reviewer, the B-side of the record may be a bit sleepy for the average listener (the collaboration with esteemed producer Blood Orange “Twice”, is unfortunately a victim of this). Although Still’s production style, comprised of swaggering synths and dry snares and trembling high hats, is studied and assured (almost entirely performed by de Casier herself, which is impressive in and of itself), there is not much diversity in the instrumentation across the record either, resulting in a sound that may be too homogenous for those who prefer diversity over consistency and mood. Throwback sounds can add depth and history to a musician’s craft, which generally works in de Casier’s favor, but on a track like the crunk-indebted, leave-me-alone anthem “My Day Off”, the sound can teeter dangerously close to pastiche; thankfully, de Casier’s confidence and humor are frequently able to nullify this pastiche, but it’s worth noting not all reference points are created or weld equally.
In interviews across her career, Erika de Casier has mentioned that she names albums as if they were greatest hits collections: Essentials was a particularly daring title for a debut, but time has been kind to de Casier’s subtle and understated flex; Sensational may not have been her true crossover moment, but it certainly expanded her sound in exciting and innovative ways, establishing her as a sensation to pay attention to. During the creation of her third record, de Casier’s public profile rose through her collaborations with other artists (namely NewJeans and Dua Lipa), and that higher level of resource and attention could have caused a disruption of artistic integrity, an enticement to shift sounds or aesthetics for broader mass appeal. In a much more striking stance, though, Erika de Casier made the bold choice to deepen, rather than expand, her writing and production and performance skills, and it points toward a very promising future for her music. Still is a reminder that an assured sense of self is, sometimes, the most powerful tool in an artist’s kit. Keep on keeping it real, Erika.
Hadley’s Take
Erika De Casier’s third album Still is a Y2K party record hiding a deeper ethos. On first blush with the lead single “Lucky,” I was quick to point out its pastiche. She laughs airily to introduce the song before a featherlight brush of chimes sets the mood for a poppy R&B song about feeling lucky to have found someone you can’t live without. I felt like I had heard it somewhere before, both from the early 2000s artists she was referencing and also from Erika herself. She’s been living in this zone on all of her projects so far, so it worried me that Still would feel tired and unadventurous.
It turns out I was quick to judge, because what I got on first listen was her tightest and most consistently great album yet. It would be easy to dismiss this as another pop retro album, but De Casier has something a lot of her peers do not. She can be playful, but she is never unserious. The production of Still glitters like your favorite Max Martin or Timbaland produced songs, but on many tracks Erika is the only one behind the boards. This control of her vision becomes apparent with every perfectly timed ad-lib or flourish. See “ooh” for proof of this. The back half of the album goes deeper into themes of anxiety, toxic relationships, and protecting one’s peace. de Casier does not shy away from these darker elements of her music, but does so with a fourth wall breaking wink with her lyrics like “And no, I can't squeeze a little meeting on a Sunday / You can send me an e-mail with all of this sh—.”
Last year, de Casier produced K-Pop megahit “Super Shy” for NewJeans. I hope this is the start to her becoming a bigger name and landing some hits under her own name, but for now she is a mainstay of the iconic 4AD record label and that’s not a bad place for her either. Connor and I have thrown our vinyl copy of Still on in the background for a few parties now, and it’s been an immediate crowd pleaser each time. I feel confident saying that anyone who had a boombox in their room growing up will find something to love on this album.