Clairo - Immunity

Introduction

Immunity is a strikingly coherent debut album that deals with finding oneself through love and personal relationships, finding intimacy while fighting depression, discovering sexual maturity and grappling with how sex affects relationships. Wrapped in an identifiable production of lo-fi grooves, this album is unique and iconic in its genre.

In an age where sexual liberation is not only acceptable but often expected to be explored in women’s pop music, this album stands out due to the way Clairo approaches it. While sex is often about power, sex is not only about power. Clairo skips the harmful, aggressive and dangerous side of sex to focus on something that can be even more irresistible: the sweet, fleeting and freeing quality that sex and physical intimacy can have.

A line that stands out to me when I think of this album is: “Fingertips on my back/Things I know that I can’t have.” Fingertips are soft and supple and carry impressions of our uniqueness. This line would carry a completely different meaning if tips was simply replaced with nails.

Sincerity and calculated innocence are consistent forces on this album, and they are carried equally by simple lo-fi grooves, warm yet whispery production, honest lyrics, concise themes and Clairo’s breathy, innocent soprano. 

“Alewife”

The album opens with a lifeless (immortal) sound. As each piano note is played, its decay is swallowed up by the synthesizer’s sustain, which creates an effect of distance, space and infinity. This is compounded by Clairo’s soft, reverberating voice being amplified through both left and right channels, making her seem impossibly close yet impossibly far away. This interplay of sound, direction, space and time feels isolating even as you are comforted by stable major chords--just as Clairo sits “In Massachusetts, only 30 minutes from Alewife,” dealing with isolation and depression, thinking of self-harm but being saved by personal connection: “But you know you saved me/From doing something to myself that night”

“Impossible”

In contrast to “Alewife,” “Impossible” opens with a sound that will come to identify this album: a lo-fi, quasi hip hop drum groove with a synthesized bass line and hollow chords. The song slowly adds more instrumental parts while Clairo sings the verses; the more that’s added the more you want to dance. 

At the end of the song, as the final refrain dissolves, we hear the playful chatter of young children and what sounds like an interview with a young girl explaining how her friends and parents are people whom she relies upon when she feels down. 

The dichotomy of children’s voices at play and a child’s voice introspecting exemplifies the album’s thematic dichotomy of innocence and maturity. As the young girl explicates the virtues of personal connection it bittersweetly shows the simplicity of life as a child and how simple understandings of what makes us happy become confused as we get older. 

“Closer To You”

“Closer To You” starts with a similar texture as “Impossible,” but its bassline is unsettled, sliding around dissonant intervals with a timbre that is oddly uncomfortable on the ears. We also get a new feature that will be used occasionally on this album: autotune. Autotune is an instrument and tool like anything else used in a studio; when used right it enhances artistry. Contrasted with the unsettling sliding bassline, the jumpy, shimmering  autotuned voice adds to the overall unorthodoxy of the track.

The refrain hits with that same autotune, but now in at least three part harmony as the sound expands, and the desperate, fatal attraction portrayed in the lyrics is amplified: “The things you do/Only make me want to get closer to you/And the things that you say/Only make me want to stay away.”

“North”

This song is perhaps the most cogent example of the ‘sweet, fleeting and freeing’ nature that sexual encounters can have. The lyrics have an honesty that is typically only found when speaking about sex in a more vulgar way, but in this song the honesty and frankness is more genteel. 

Clairo’s soft diction perfectly pairs with the intimate lyrics. Amplified by the album’s characteristic soft, stereo production of Clairo’s singing, this song makes my heart skip a beat everytime I hear it. It carries, ironically, a more sensual expression than other songs that approach sexuality more viscerally. Below are some examples of lines that demonstrate the honesty of sweet sensuality that this song exemplifies:

I’m nervous, couldn’t tell you why.

Touching me, hands warm on my thighs.

Oh, and my body hasn’t felt the same

Since you left my apartment.

Think my pillows still have your scent.

And I know that we got some potential,

Cause that [look/love] you gave me was so gentle.

Fingertips on my back,

Things I know that I can’t have

“Bags”

This is the second most popular song on this album and one that many Clairo fans will point towards as a standout on the album. This song does not stick out to me in the same way. As I mentioned in the introduction, “North” is the song that sticks with me the most, but there are several others I would point to before this one. 

It does stick out in regards to its production style. This is likely due to the fact that it was the first single released for this album. Its drum groove is less lo-fi, the vocals are more present and punchy, and its verse-refrain form is simple and does not deviate. I can see why it makes a good single, but it is not the song I would use to introduce someone to this album. 

“Softly”

This song opens with a similar texture to many of the others, but instead of the synthesized bass, it is a guitar playing jazz-inspired broken chords in an intricate rhythm. Clairo explores this lo-fi, jazz style in more depth on her album Charm, but the slight deviation towards this style on Immunity is a really nice palate cleanser. The song is competently constructed to make for easy listening. 

“Sofia”

This is the most popular song on the album and for good reason. It is a synthesis of the themes and style of this album but it also has a uniqueness that makes it infinitely re-listenable on its own. 

The crushed lo-fi guitar chords that open the song are familiar enough when compared to the rest of the album but also represent something unique, showing you that this song is special. The lo-fi drum beat comes in next and you feel at home. Just when you feel as though you know what to expect, out of nowhere the drop happens: the fidelity brightens, the sonic landscape widens and the vocals come in all at the same time. 

The first verse is repeated twice, but the second time adds a stacked vocal harmony, sixteenth notes in the hi-hats and synthesizer runs. The second repetition of the verse takes the song from melancholy to melancholic dancing. 

At 1:42, there is an effect that stands out to me everytime I hear it. Preceded by a synthesizer slide down to a low octave, the melody is played instrumentally and the entire production starts to sound like blown-out speakers. But this is not even what makes this effect so special. The bridge comes eight bars later with a new melody in a higher tessitura and a harmony line above the melody. The stark clarity and simplicity that erupts from the disorder of the ‘blown-out speaker’ section feels like an awakening from a fog. 

The song’s outro features a breakdown of the refrain that is one of the most inventive sections on this album. The melody takes a background role as it is broken up, repeated and interpolated while a harmony line takes center stage. This song belongs on virtually every playlist no matter the mood. 

“White Flag”

The arrangement is very sparse in the first verse, leading to Clairo’s vocals being more present than on other songs on the album. The vocals are especially strong at the beginning of the second verse, when she sings out (over the now more dense texture) “I was fifteen when/I first felt loneliness.” “White Flag” draws a clear thematic connection to “Impossible,” once again using the sound of children at play (in the beginning and end of the song) to represent the desire for the simpler times of childhood before feelings like loneliness set in. 

“Feel Something”

“Feel Something” fits strongly on the album sonically and thematically, containing themes of intimacy and isolation and rocking a slow-jam interpretation of lo-fi bedroom pop, but it is not particularly special. The album probably could have done without this entry considering the next track is also a lo-fi slow-jam and stronger example of what Clairo is capable of in this style.

“Sinking”

“Sinking” is a down-tempo, jazz-inspired track similar to “Softly” but dealing with the pain that relationships can cause. Clairo delivers one of her best vocal performances of the album, slightly raspy in the low range and floaty in the high range while maintaining an almost out of breath quality simulating what it feels like to be so in love it hurts. The song aptly ends with Clairo repeatedly moaning, “Oh, you tried to help me/Why do I feel so cold?/Is it my doing?/Is it my doing?”

“I Wouldn’t Ask You”

Calling back to the beginning of the album, when that young girl was talking about leaning on friends and family in times of need, Clairo begins this song singing along with a children’s choir: “I wouldn’t ask you to take care of me.” Dovetailing in right before the verse starts we hear an adult woman’s voice (not Clairo’s) say, “I think I’m losing you.” 

In the first 30 seconds of this seven minute song, Clairo has effectively set up a poignant and powerful summary of the journey that she has taken us on throughout the album. This is not the first time Clairo has alluded to parental figures, she does so in Alewife, but in that case they feel intangible. Hearing this woman’s exhausted vocal fry revealing that she might be emotionally losing her child changes our perspective on what it means to grow up and find intimacy outside of the relationship you have with your parents.

The first delves again into romantic intimacy, as Clairo continues her search but is lost in confusion and frustration. As the children’s choir comes back in during the refrain, something interesting occurs: the choir alternates how they sing the line, “I wouldn’t ask you to take care of me.” The first time they sing the line, it is unified and proper, but the second time it is raucous, taking an almost accusatory tone. They alternate declaring the sentiment caringly and telling the sentiment (I can take care of myself).

The first section of this song continues with another verse exploring the battle between intimacy and isolation and another refrain with alternating vocal deliveries. As the first section dissolves, there is an abrupt sonic tone shift. Bright, high pitched percussion and major chords take over the texture. Clairo sings, “I wouldn't ask you,” as the children’s choir sings, “We could be so strong/We’ll be alright.” The only and final two verses’ in this section are essential to understanding the resolution of this album: 

Caught me by surprise,

Everything I need in my life.

I wanna call you mine,

I wanna be intertwined.

Feels like I’ve known you for so long,

Without you I don’t feel strong.

While these verses are taking place the children’s choir is repeatedly singing, “We could be so strong.” 

Conclusion

This album is an exploration of what can be described in Erik Erikson’s Theory of Psychological Development as the Intimacy vs. Isolation stage, which takes place around ages 20-40. Clairo was 20 years old when this came out. She effectively tells a story of what this stage of development will bring as she is nascently entering it: missing your childhood, desiring innocence, exploring intimacy in romantic relationships, leaving your parents (physically and emotionally), etc. It is a solid debut entry for an artist who has done an incredible job focusing on specific stages of her life and sharing them in a personal and applicable way, and this album is still one of her best.