Album Review: Abbie Ozard – everything still worries me

[House Anxiety; 2024]

There’s something about your 20s, where everything seems to happen at once. Relationships and friendships form apparently unbreakable bonds before disappearing suddenly; the demands of adult life abruptly mount up; and society seems to push you towards being a fully-functioning and contributing member of it. This is the wringer that Manchester musician Abbie Ozard has been through and what she captures on her appropriately titled debut album everything still worries me. A journey through modern day anxiety, sweet and sour romance, and inevitable change, the album is a snapshot of Ozard’s here and now as she processes the world around her.

Ozard keeps her thoughts relatable; folks her age would be hard-pressed not to have her words resonate with them in some way. “Can never put my phone away”; “I always seem to fuck things up”; “Everyone hates me”. These anxieties are par for the course for her generation, which will help Ozard rally a singalong crowd at gigs. She knows when to dial up the feverish energy too, like on “how are you holding up?” and the Swiftian build of “i don’t know happiness without you”. Every so often she’ll hit on a nugget of gold, like the aggrieved break up song “monsters”, where she details a toxic relationship disintegrating; “Too long living in a fantasy / and it’s made monsters out of you and me,” she chimes over a perky backdrop.

Elsewhere, on the album’s title track, she delivers what feels like her most unadorned and honest sentiment. “I’ve been working on my CBT / but everything still worries me,” goes the chorus, as strings add a melancholic edge. It’s a hard truth of adult life: even when you face your problems head on, the worry and the troubles still persist regardless.

There’s no denying that everything still worries me is a considered and succinct record. It’s full of lovely details, from the fizzy guitar on “how are you holding up?”, to the squall of robotic voices on final track “think for yourself”, to the velvety synths on “the window”. Ozard paints carefully with occasional meticulousness, and she has a knack for capturing that sweet spot between bedroom pop and indie anthems where little outstays its welcome. But equally everything feels so tightly packed that it seems desperate not to fail; Ozard fills every corner and crevice with detail, which makes for rewarding close listening, but also too much dazzle when some rougher edges and sparser arrangements might suit better. 

Is it fair to fault her for going for tried and tested sounds though? Some of the appeal of Ozard’s music here is that it evokes her peers, be it the Billie Eilish-like close-up vocals on “space for two” or the Olivia Rodrigo stomp of aforementioned “how are you holding up?” There are hints and influences from numerous others (Ailbhe Reddy, Orla Gartland, Laura Marling, Lana Del Ray, Phoebe Green, girl in red), and consequently near enough anything from everything still worries me would fit snugly in a mix or playlist of the aforementioned artists’ music. On “miss american dream” she even enlists Liverpudlian singer Pixey for a slice of bubblegum pop, a ditzy and overcooked carefree ode to non-romantic adoration where both singers harmonize sweetly, but are equally indistinguishable from each other.

everything still worries is Ozard swirling together her formative years, tracking the highs and lows, from the regret of crossing a romantic boundary with a friend (“i miss it when we were friends”), to the perks of keeping to one’s self (“party 4 1”), to a sweet but vapid short commentary on the downfalls of social media (“days like these”). At multiple points she reflects on how she’s still living life in the same way she did when she was 18 years old, and while it speaks well to the arrested development of her generation trying to resist change and responsibility, it also serves as an indictment of her own work: everything still worries me is Ozard honing the skills she’s been showing off over the past few years, but before long she’ll have to step outwards, make bigger steps, and take more risks. If not, she’ll still be scavenging from her early 20s when the world around her has moved on.

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