Madison Beer’s “locket”; Dream Pop That Hangs Close to the Chest
POP TINGZ RATING
7 / 10
With locket, Madison Beer delivers her most intimate and self-assured work to date. Her third studio album is a hushed, dreamy exploration of heartbreak and self-reclamation, written largely by Beer herself and steeped in emotional specificity. Where her earlier work chased polish and perfection, locket leans inward; at times quieter, sadder, and more vulnerable. It doesn’t beg for attention. It waits for you to lean in.
The album’s central metaphor is as delicate as its soundscape. A locket, once used to hold a lover close, becomes something Beer keeps close to her but still lets go of. Over piano, harps, and gauzy harmonies, she reaches the album’s emotional thesis: “everything that I could ever need is within me.” It’s a record about releasing attachment. Not dramatically, but gently.
That gentleness doesn’t mean passivity. “yes baby” kicks the album into motion. Dark. Sltry techno. Beer fully in her element. The hook loops like a mantra, confidence turning into appetite. It’s one of the album’s boldest moments and a reminder that softness and power aren’t opposites.
“angel wings” drifts into bedroom pop and R&B, Beer explaining that it’s easier to tell people the man she loved is “dead”, to pretend he has “angel wings”, than to relive the loss. The track lingers in its production for nearly a minute, modern and aching, letting silence speak as loudly as lyrics.
“for the night” is slow and confessional, built on soft guitar and layered vocals that recall Billie Eilish’s “Billie Bossa Nova.” Beer isn’t promising forever, just asking for comfort until morning. That same emotional clarity fuels “bad enough,” one of Locket’s standout tracks. With slow synths and a devastatingly relatable refrain, it captures the relatable exhaustion of loving someone who never quite meets you halfway.
Patterns repeat, as they often do in real relationships. “healthy habit” examines the cycle of leaving and returning, the pull of familiarity overpowering logic, set against production that nods to Ariana Grande’s Sweetener era. “you’re still everything” strips things back even further, Beer quietly questioning why someone who hurt her still holds so much power.
The album’s emotional peak might be “complexity,” a melancholic, slow-burning track that builds into a sci-fi-tinged electronic swell. “How can I expect you to love me when you don’t love yourself?” she asks, not accusatory, just tired. It’s one of the album’s most mature moments, where understanding replaces blame.
Beer briefly lifts the tempo again with her hit single, “make you mine,” a shadowy club track with climbing synths that feels immersive rather than escapist. Even here, the euphoria is tinged with melancholy. Songs like “nothing at all” and “bittersweet” continue that theme, derivative at times, perhaps, but intentionally so, like revisiting old thoughts just to finally lay them to rest.
locket may not be the loudest, chart-topping project, but it lingers. It’s dreamy, emotionally layered, and quietly confident; the sound of an artist fully in command of her voice and her vulnerability. Madison Beer doesn’t dramatize her pain here; she documents it, then gently releases it. In doing so, she proves that growth doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes, it just unlocks.
