Tate McRae So Close To What Review — So Close, Yet So Far
On her third album, the Canadian dancer-singer delivers singular moments of greatness clouded by a fuzzy overall vision.
I’m rooting for Tate McRae. Or at least trying to. She has a lot going for her that I’ll never deny. “greedy” is certainly one of the catchiest songs of the decade, even if you can’t really understand what she’s saying—but that’s also what makes it so fun to sing along to. And the girl can dance, obviously. She was a finalist on So You Think You Can Dance at 13. I repeat: 13! The talent is undeniably there.
But there’s something about McRae that hasn’t completely clicked. I’m not the only one facing this mental blockage: The internet has basically crowned McRae the Queen of the Khia Asylum—brainrot speak for an artist whose icon status remains just out of reach. Some are even convinced her bronde hair color is what’s keeping her from becoming the next Britney Spears. But enough of what the Internet says. How’s the music?
After the success of “greedy” cemented her transition from bedroom pop to dance pop, McRae’s sophomore album, 2023’s THINK LATER, was met with lukewarm critical reception. Most of the album seemed to lean towards filler, spare a few singles. And perhaps that’s why McRae hasn’t yet gotten her Sabrina Carpenter-esque breakout: There’s an inconsistency in style, vision, and creative direction that gives her discography that disjointed feel.
My hope for her latest album, So Close To What, was a little more cohesion, a little more substance, and a little less fluff. But at first glance, a 15-song tracklist (one song longer than the already bloated THINK LATER) wasn’t necessarily screaming “less fluff.”
So Close To What feels like cosplay. And McRae’s influences are everywhere: single “Sports car” leans into the 2000s r&b-pop akin to The Pussycat Dolls, and opener “Miss possessive” sounds like it could be a thank u, next B-side. She’s not shy about citing her sources, but sometimes it leans more towards plagiarism—you’re telling me “2 hands” samples Calvin Harris’s “Slide,” but “Sports car” isn’t a direct rip off of “Buttons”?
In that way, McRae can feel a bit like a record label puppet—a vessel, for lack of a better term, for songs crafted in a specific attempt to make a hit. It’s what makes her feel like an industry plant, even though she’s not technically one. And McRae is her strongest when she’s dancing, which is what makes her music videos at all compelling. But I did notice that most of her songs have a built-in dance break to cater to that spectacular live presence, which sometimes makes for a weird listening-only experience. Should you have to watch a music video to better enjoy a song?
If So Close To What shows any sort of growth, it’s that McRae exchanged her ballads for more fast-paced and engaging drum-and-bass textures. The lowest moments of THINK LATER were the sadgirl pop tracks that felt like McRae was singing about emotions with little-to-no story behind them (see “stay done” or “calgary”). She trades this in for heavier pop-trap beats like on “bloodonmyhands,” which features a verse from Flo Milli, one of only two features on the album. But that doesn’t stop her from sneaking in painfully out of place acoustic guitar on the already painfully out of place closer “Nostalgia.” Old habits certainly die hard!
So Close To What’s highest points can sneak up on you. Take “Purple lace bra,” McRae’s lament on the different ways she gets objectified, which features the line I’m losing my mind ‘cause giving you head’s / The only time you think I’ve got depth. Like, if we can just pause for a second… that’s a BAR. She got me there. And it took a few listens for it to even register, which made it that much better.
Another track that quickly grows on you is “Revolving door,” the house-leaning meditation on trying to break bad habits. (Its corresponding music video, which coincided with the album drop, is arguably the best of the four videos from this record.) McRae is at her most captivating, contorting her body in unimaginable ways and giving Beyoncé-level hairography (yeah, I said it!) It feels like one of her most genuine, vulnerable songs, while still being easy to dance to and substantial enough to stand on its own.
These moments are what makes So Close To What, and McRae as an artist, particularly frustrating. There are points of greatness and potential, but they’re clouded by other points of uninspired production and bland, indistinguishable trap pop backbeats. So Close To What probably could’ve been nine tracks rather than 15. There are enough individual bops to make forgettable filler tracks like “Means I care” or “Greenlight” feel unnecessary. Honestly, if she’d opened with “2 hands,” skipped “I know love” and “Like I do” and ended with “It’s ok I’m ok,” she’d have herself a better-than-decent 2000s-inspired pop album.
The best way to approach McRae, I’ve decided, is to not expect anything revolutionary. And that is completely fine! I don’t think we should be expecting her to single-handedly change the landscape of pop music. McRae is at her best with her hyper-curated, albeit a little too closely-inspired singles (I wouldn’t be surprised if we see Nicole Scherzinger take McRae to court over “Sports car” in the near future). Even if So Close To What isn’t the next In The Zone, that doesn’t mean “2 hands” won’t be stuck in your head long after the album’s over.