Charlie Puth’s WhatevEr’s Clever!; Smooth Sounds, Softer Substance
POP TINGZ RATING
6.4/10
Charlie Puth has never lacked technical ability. Few modern pop musicians possess his ear for arrangement, melody, and meticulous production detail. On his latest album, written alongside BloodPop, Puth leans fully into a dad-core soundscape of late ‘80s and early ‘90s pop and soft rock, invoking Phil Collins, Jackson 5, and yacht rock staples with admirable devotion. The result is a record filled with clean musicianship, layered instrumentation, and moments of undeniable charm, but one that ultimately feels more pleasant than profound.
Across its runtime, Puth experiments with glossy nostalgia, incorporating choirs, saxophones, trumpet flourishes, and soft-rock guitar lines that evoke a very specific musical era. It’s wholesome, polished, and mature in tone. Yet for all its sonic richness, the album often feels like an exercise in aesthetic appreciation rather than emotional excavation.
“Changes” stands as one of the album’s strongest moments. A clear nod to Phil Collins, the track reflects on Puth becoming a father with sweeping sincerity. Funky basslines intertwine with warm synthesizers, while layered vocals, a piano solo, and a swelling choir elevate the track into something out of a great Disney movie. It’s a grand gesture that showcases Puth’s undeniable production instincts; when he commits fully, the results are striking.
“Beat Yourself Up” injects early Michael Jackson-style flair, complete with bright trumpet accents and a flashy groove that feels energetic without being overwhelming. Similarly, “Cry (feat. Kenny G)” slows things down into another Collins-inspired ballad, its emotional weight carried by Kenny G’s unmistakable saxophone solo. It’s a tasteful collaboration that highlights Puth’s appreciation for legacy artists.
Not every track lands as successfully. “Washed Up” drifts into what can only be described as polished elevator music, sonically pleasant but emotionally inert. “New Jersey (feat. Ravyn Lenae)” suffers from a similar fate; despite strong synth production, the theme, lamenting how unexciting New Jersey is, feels trivial without the production being strong enough to carry the track, making the collaboration feel squandered.
Moments of reflection appear on “Don’t Meet Your Heroes,” where piano-driven melancholy builds into a delicate violin outro. The lyric “don’t meet your heroes without knowing yourself” suggests a specific incident Puth might have experienced, though the song falls short of fully exploring the idea.
Unexpected collaborations pepper the album, sometimes working better than expected. “Home (feat. Hikaru Utada)” initially feels like an unusual pairing, yet their voices blend beautifully into a gentle, comforting duet. “Hey Brother” showcases Puth’s musical precision, particularly his ability to mirror guitar notes vocally, though the songwriting itself feels uninspired.
The album’s standout track is arguably “Sideways (feat. Coco Jones)”” a smooth R&B cut reminiscent of Justin Timberlake’s early work (if it was crafted with real heart). It’s confident, catchy, and effortlessly cool, proof that Puth can still deliver excellence when melody and emotion align.
Elsewhere, “Love In Exile (feat. Kenny Loggins and Michael McDonald)” attempts Jackson 5 warmth but never quite reaches the emotional heights it aims for. “Until It Happens To You (feat. Jeff Goldblum and The Mildred Snitzer Orchestra)” feels like the curtain call of a musical, with Jeff Goldblum’s spoken-word cameo feeling unnecessary and somewhat distracting.
Perhaps the most revealing track is “I Used To Be Cringe,” an acoustic confession where Puth reflects on the compromises he made to fit industry expectations: “I used to lie and say I was taller / And throw words around like ‘baller’.” It hints at deeper introspection but stops short of true vulnerability, leaving the listener wanting more emotional risk.
Throughout the album, Puth demonstrates impeccable craftsmanship. The instrumentation is varied and carefully curated, and the nostalgic influences are handled with reverence. But the record frequently prioritizes style over substance, offering sonic comfort rather than emotional catharsis and, really, without fully going there.
Charlie Puth remains one of pop’s most talented technicians; as Taylor Swift once noted, he should be a bigger artist. Yet it is in these moments we realize why he isn’t. This album feels like a missed opportunity to dig deeper into the themes he introduces. If Puth intended to fully embrace the Phil Collins-inspired aesthetic, a more committed conceptual approach could have elevated the project beyond homage.
Instead, the album exists in a pleasant middle ground: mature, musically rich, and occasionally excellent, but rarely essential.
A comfortable listen … perhaps too comfortable.
