Confession time: I’ve never been a Paramore fan. Not because they weren’t good — I always thought they sounded great — but I just never connected with their songs. I was a 23-year-old punk kid when Paramore broke out, and in my head, their music was for teenage girls. Looking back, I was a dipshit.
As time went on, seeing Paramore and Hayley Williams in stripped-down settings — NPR’s Tiny Desk, BBC One Live Lounge — I realized I had seriously underestimated her songwriting capabilities. Williams has it: the voice, the presence, the soul that pulls you in. With the release of Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party, I’m officially eating crow. This record isn’t just good. It’s everything I want in an album: layered, shifting, immersive. Something I can get lost in.
Dozens of listens in, I still catch something new every time. Williams and her collaborators weave through styles and moods like it’s nothing. “Hard” could easily slot onto The Cure’s Songs of a Lost World. “True Believer” and “Brotherly Hate” seethe with frustration at those fake fucko-Christians who wield religion as a weapon — tracks that carry the same raw power Rhett McLaughlin tapped into on his James and the Shame project. The title track keeps right on dissing dipshits, and I am very much here for it.
Other moments feel like resurrected 90s gems. Tell me “Negative Self Talk” is a PJ Harvey cover and I’ll nod along. “Blood Bros” sent me spiraling back into a Beth Orton rabbit hole. And then there’s the vulnerability: “Parachute,” “I Won’t Quit You,” and “Glum” feel like peeking straight into Williams’ diary. “Love Me Different” threads the needle from lament to hope, reminding you that Williams isn’t afraid to let the songs — or her voice — twist and transform.
What bewilders me most is how someone who sells out stadiums can have such a delicate, intricate touch on an album like this. It’s raw and polished, fragile and confident, messy and intentional. A series of paradoxes that just make sense.
So here it is: I am now a fan of Hayley Williams. My apologies, Ms. Williams. I was unfamiliar with your game.