Funerals are typically watched.
For once, though, Justin Bieber has pushed a medium forward by making the first audio-only burial – “SWAG” – a bloated, dated album that does little more than lead the listener to question just what kind of place Bieber has in popular culture.
“SWAG” opens with a beautiful, beachy hook on “All I Can Take,” drawing the audience in with the potential of a new, chill Bieber era. That euphoric feeling lasts for all of 20 seconds until Bieber’s trademark whiny vocals and hollow lyrics bring the good vibes to a screeching halt.
It’s clear that Bieber is trying to set an introspective tone for what should be a vulnerable album with lines like “Feels personal when no one’s listenin’ / There’s things that I can’t change, Lord knows I’ve tried,” but he can’t commit fully to reflection to make a truly transparent statement.
The album’s second song, “Daisies,” is one of its strongest, as Bieber nears authenticity with the first couple bars: “Head is spinnin’, and it don’t know when to stop / ‘Cause you said, ‘Forever,’ babe, did you mean it or not?” The back half of the song, however, fails to properly build to a satisfying resolution, with Bieber saying little more than “You got me all, all in my feelings / You got me all in my head.”
The problems of “All I Can Take” and “Daisies” – lush production being kneecapped by first draft songwriting – persist through the entire album, making any attempt to get into the record inherently frustrating. If any artist with an iota more charisma or personality spent an afternoon cobbling together lyrics for such fantastic-sounding tracks, they would have something leagues better than “SWAG,” but the eight or so credited songwriters can’t find a competent artistic voice.
The first eight songs of “SWAG” all seem so similar and forgettable that the interlude “Soulful” is like cold water to the face. Comedian Druski tells Bieber that “Your skin is white, but your soul Black, Justin, I promise you” in what is at best a bizarre choice to put on the album.
Druski features on two more interludes, “Therapy Session” and “Standing on Business.” In the former, Bieber opens up about struggles with fame and again approaches authenticity, and, in the latter, he talks about his viral street encounter from June, but both conversations end with Druski raving about Black & Mild cigarettes, cheapening a personal moment.
The back half of “SWAG” is relatively bold for Bieber in that he’s trying to leave his comfort zone and take some risks. “Devotion” sounds like a Jack Johnson track and is solid enough to beg the question of why Bieber hides behind generic autotune, and “Sweet Spot” with Sexxy Red is a fine, if forgettable, sex jam that is again hampered by Bieber being a charisma black hole.
Throughout “SWAG,” Bieber is disappointingly boring and uncreative. Since moving on from producer Scooter Braun, he’s been gifted with stellar sounds and beats, but he spoils them with his inauthentic persona and dreary demeanor. He does not sound cool. He does not sound interesting. He does not sound exciting. He sounds like he’s uninterested in his own career, making it nearly impossible for anyone else to be. He sounds swagless.
