Julia Jacklin’s ‘‘Crushing’’ is an Anthem of Growth and Heartbreak
‘‘I remembered early days / When you took my camera / Turned to me, 23 / Naked on your bed, looking straight at you,’’ Julia Jacklin croons in the opening track of Crushing. ‘‘Do you still have that photograph? / Would you use it to hurt me?’’. Her lyrics hit the listener like a welcomed gut punch. The song, ’Body’, sets the tone for the remainder of the album. It’s clear that in her music Jacklin has embraced transparency about relationships, societal pressures, and womanhood.
Crushing is the Australian based singer’s second album. Jacklin’s debut, Don’t Let the Kids Win, was released in 2016. Although Jacklin’s indie rock style is consistent, her second album is more focused. There are moments in Don’t Let the Kids Win, where Jacklin whispers what she will shout in Crushing. In one song she sings about saying goodbye to different men at the same airport. It’s a meditation on the way society often pressures women to identify themselves through their relationships with men and the hollowness it creates. Jacklin begins to dig deeper into this dissatisfaction in Crushing.
It’s a surreal experience to be both enthralled and dissatisfied by the same album. I found the beginning set of songs nearly flawless. Jacklin’s soft vocals and mellow tempos are a harmonious combination. Although opposite in genre, her detailed lyrics are reminiscent of Amy Winehouse. The third track, ‘‘Head Alone’’, demands the listeners’ attention. Jacklin keeps repeating to her partner that love isn’t always physical. ‘‘I don’t want to be touched all the time,’’ she sings in the chorus. ‘‘I raised my body up to be mine.’’ Jacklin refuses to cave in to society’s view of how a woman should act in romantic relationships. At its best, Crushing is where Jacklin vulnerably reclaims autonomy over her love, body, and sexuality.
It’s not until halfway through the album that everything begins to dissipate. Overall, the second half seems muddied compared to the clarity of the first. Even Jacklin’s lyrics can’t salvage a few of the songs whose rhythms are painfully slow. As I listened to the final song though, I realized the goal of the album wasn’t to reach perfection. Crushing is about the messiness of self-realization and pushing back against society’s restrictions over a woman’s body, identity, and relationships. A completely seamless album wouldn’t fit Jacklin’s essence. Perfection is often another form of stagnation. Crushing then is a starting point for Jacklin as a musician who assesses her reality head-on. Hopefully, it will lead to even more transparent albums that capture chapters in her journey of growth.
