Not in Chronological Order by Julia Michaels showcases what a pop album about love can be. She finds unique takes on a subject that has been rehashed in songs for thousands of years. And, the result is nothing short of extraordinary.
She also kept her album tight. There isn’t any need to waste space. Each song is exactly how long it needs to be. Because of this dedication to short and sweet pop songs the album clocks in at only thirty minutes. I recommend the album to any who enjoy great unique pop music with unique perspectives.
I break down the album further in my video review below.
Check out my review from two weeks ago.
Want to listen to it while you’re here?
Check out the new album by Julia Michaels:
NEW YORK – April 30, 2021 – Grammy® Award-nominated multiplatinum singer and songwriter JULIA MICHAELS releases her long-awaited debut album, Not In Chronological Order, today.
Not In Chronological Order, or NICO as she refers to it, is a 10-song body of work that finds Julia sharing various chapters of her life in one place. “I’ve never been more vulnerable or as happy as I was putting this album together,” she said. “On many of these songs I’m speaking from a new perspective on love that is so much healthier and happier than I’ve experienced in the past,” she adds. “I’m excited to share a new side of me and hope fans love it as much as I do!”
Written and recorded over the last year, the album was produced by production and songwriting team The Monsters & Strangerz. JULIA also collaborated once again with Grammy® Award-nominated singer-and-songwriter JP Saxe on “All Your Exes” and “Little Did I know.”
The album highlights countless facets of JULIA–from the clever and confessional lyricism to the cheeky sense of humor and flawless knack for a signature, sticky, and soaring hook. She surveys each corner of her heart and gets real about life, love, and everything in between. You’ll hear her personality loud and clear on the pensively powerful “Pessimist,” crystallized in the dancefloor bounce of “Wrap Around,” amplified by the wide-eyed infatuation of the synth-y “Orange Magic,” and wistfully nostalgic on the finger-picked guitar-driven finale “That’s The Kind Of Woman.”
