This is her most vulnerable, self-reflecting project yet; Fletcher has invited fans to witness her journey of self-discovery, wreckage and the beauty that comes with getting to know someone, their flaws and all.
The album opens with disorganised feelings, pushing us into a scene that feels like a wild night out strewn with self-doubt. ‘Party’ introduces us to a narrator who seriously wants to get lost in the light, noise and everyone else’s expectations. But beneath the synths and sarcasm, you sense the weariness of Fletcher trying to stay afloat.
‘Hi, Everyone Leave Please’ is presented as the comedown; when a party comes to a close, full of sudden clarity and feeling overwhelmed. It’s as if she’s ushering people out of the emotional room she let them into too quickly, needing to reclaim her own space. Fletcher is known for mixing intensity with humour; the album is covered in them, especially when she provokes and tempts herself in ‘Don’t Tempt Me…’ with a voice full of restraint she doesn’t really want to keep.
At the core of the album ‘The Arsonist’ burns brightest where Fletcher turns her gaze inward and takes accountability for the damage she caused. It’s one of the most lyrically striking moments. ‘The Arsonist’ is for the people who sabotage something precious just to feel in control. Fletcher’s voice is powerful, not cruel… just honest.
Fletcher doesn't stay in the fire for long. ‘Boy’ emerges as a lyrically unexpected soft ballad towards her fans. It recounts a surprising new love in gentle terms. “I kissed a boy and I know it’s not what you wanted to hear” might seem simple on the surface, but it took her fanbase by surprise due to Fletcher building a fanbase on dating women. It’s the most stripped-back, sonically and emotionally, Fletcher has been while being honest about her identity.
The middle of the album presents anxiety and uncertainty throughout ‘Chaos’. Fletcher presents the feeling of anxiety through the fast-paced overthinking pre-chorus, followed by the comedown throughout the slowed-down chorus. Whilst followed by ‘D i s t a n c e’, slowing everything down into a near-whisper, capturing the ache of feeling far from someone, even if they are right near you. The production mirrors that ache and how gorgeously uncomfortable it can be. Once we get to ‘Good Girl / Gone Girl’, Fletcher is done playing nice. She faces the version of herself everyone wanted her to be, and the one she wants to become - less polished, more powerful. The shift is beautiful, demonstrating the move from vulnerability to confrontation in one breath.
There’s beauty in the message Fletcher is giving on ‘All of the Women’, where Fletcher goes into how it feels to be a woman at times and that they are not alone in that. She touches on the weight of representing an entire identity group while barely keeping herself together. It’s queer storytelling that doesn’t simplify - she breathes, she aches, she owns it fully.
Going into ‘Congratulations’, the harsh sarcasm returns. It’s a forward middle finger to the pressure to make pain look poetic. Finally, the ending title track, ‘Would You Still Love Me?’, is the perfect ending to the project. It’s Fletcher's way of asking, “After hearing all this, do you still love me?”. She ends the record with a question and not an answer that echoes for a while after the final note.
If ‘In Search Of The Antidote’ searched for meaning for heartbreak, ‘Would You Still Love Me If You Really Knew Me?’ is searching for nothing. It’s being honest with your flaws and asking to still be loved anyway. Fletcher doesn’t polish herself up this album - the honesty and vulnerability are what make it stick. It’s uncomfortable, self-aware, and brave in all the right ways.
Image: ‘Would You Still Love Me If You Knew Me’ Official Album Cover
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