Demi Lovato’s “It’s Not That Deep”; Great Dance Party, Shame No One’s There
Demi Lovato’s ninth studio album, It’s Not That Deep, arrives with a shrug and a smile, a conscious uncoupling from the angst, trauma, and heaviness that’s colored much of her recent discography. “I’m happy, I’m in love, and I just want to enjoy life and have fun,” Lovato said before its release. And that’s exactly what this record is: fun, fleeting, and intentionally surface-level. Produced by Zhone, the 11-track set feels like a pulsing neon exhale; a love letter to the dancefloor with zero emotional homework attached.
The album opens with “Fast,” a glossy, techno-heavy track that does exactly what it says on the tin, racing forward with EDM synths and infectious energy. It’s nothing revolutionary, but it’s slick and loud enough to get your attention. Lovato sounds liberated, almost cheeky, brushing off the weight of past eras for something fizzy and carefree.
“Here All Night” keeps the disco ball spinning, with its thumping beat and lyrics about shaking off heartbreak. “Frequency,” however, is where Lovato hits her stride, a sultry, Britney Spears-inspired cut that flirts with chaos in the best way possible. “F*ck up the vibe,” she teases, before sliding into a Kesha-style spoken word verse that turns the song into a gleeful club meltdown. It’s easily the album’s standout, and the one that actually makes good on her promise of carefree fun.
There are slower moments too: “Let You Go” is the closest thing here to a traditional ballad, an electro-laced track where Lovato’s vocals finally get to stretch and shimmer. Similarly, “Sorry To Myself” balances a snappy beat with self-compassion, nodding to past struggles while keeping the mood light. It’s one of the few lyrical moments that feels personal, even if it still floats atop a bed of glittery synths.
“Little Bit” and “Kiss” dive deeper into the hyperpop-adjacent soundscape, the former glitchy and frenetic, the latter cheekily commanding: “Kiss me like one of your French girls.” These tracks are pure dancefloor indulgence, catchy, glossy, and engineered for fun rather than depth.
Unfortunately, there are some disastrous tracks: “In My Head” and “Before I Knew You” blur together into forgettable mid-tempo filler, lacking spark. “Ghost” closes the record on a typical note, stripping away the synths for a simple piano ballad that reminds listeners why Lovato remains one of pop’s most powerful vocalists.
If It’s Not That Deep sounds like a great dance party; it’s a shame no one’s really attending. The album borrows heavily from Charli xcx’s Brat-era hedonism and the current wave of club-pop revivalism, but without the same sonic innovation. Still, Lovato seems genuinely at ease, and that counts for something. Right?
Lyrically, the album is exactly what its title promises: not that deep. It’s lightweight, carefree, and entirely uninterested in proving itself. Will it break records? Probably not. But in a pop landscape obsessed with reinvention and reinvention fatigue, there’s something refreshing (even admirable) about Demi Lovato saying, “I’m fine, I’m dancing, and I don’t care what you think.”
It may not be a reinvention, but for once, that might be the point.
