The follow-up to the Mercury-winning Collapsed In Sunbeams sets about laying the groundwork for a long and stellar career.
Listening to My Soft Machine her work seems effortless but that’s obviously not the case otherwise so many artists would be operating at her high level. Parks is the real deal and an emerging artist that we will be celebrating for some time to come.
My Soft Machine is a punchier, poppier outing for Parks but the record shares a lot in common with its predecessor.
On My Soft Machine, introspective icon Arlo Parks practises an admirable gratitude for life in the face of some of its greatest challenges.
Doing what it says on the tin, My Soft Machine is powerfully subtle, and reasserts Parks’ ability to capture and alleviate negative emotions, while simultaneously furthering her exploration of the sound that put her on the map.
Following a moment away from the limelight and pivotal interactions with unexpected muses, Arlo emerges with a newfound directness, finding a sound and voice that fully represents the multifaceted complexities of the world outside the bedroom.
My Soft Machine hits differently than Collapsed in Sunbeams, but it's still a powerful effort that packs more emotional weight while expanding the singer/songwriter's stylistic range.
There’s still a gingerliness to her songwriting, where at points you wish for less apologies and a more strident course—but that’s the take from someone whose 30s are in the rearview and knows fully well the world still doesn’t make sense.
My Soft Machine’s matured vulnerability and consistently interesting production keep Arlo Parks as one of indie’s most moving and rewardingly accessible songwriters.
Too much of My Soft Machine is too smooth by half.
My Soft Machine lacks the clarity of Parks’s exceptional debut, and can veer too often into repetition; there’s a lack of journey in the individual songs, meaning you end in much the same place as you started. Her lyrics are, as ever, expertly crafted, but they deserve much more musical supporting oomph.
Though buoyed by Arlo Parks’ resilience and desire for authentic union with a partner, My Soft Machine is over reliant on predictable sonics and vague melodies.
The baseline of what JUST qualifies as song writing, as with the debut this music is nondescript and emotionally void - a vague 'bedroom pop'/'alt pop' flatline.
Plinky plonk non melodies and vocals that can switch between rapping and singing unnoticed because both approaches lack any sort of impact or personality.
AI can replace this yesterday already.
NO NUANCE REVIEW
I don’t understand. Loved Arlo Park’s debut, and this time around she brought in Ariel Rechtshaid, Buddy Ross, Paul Epworth, and Romil Hemnani to produce. How do you get such a strong team of creatives in one place and make an album this musically nondescript?
How do you follow one of the hottest debuts in bedroom pop history? With one of the blandest, most nondescript albums of the year, of course!
There's next to nothing to pick up from "My Soft Machine," Arlo Parks' sophomore album. Whereas 2021's "Collapsed in Sunbeams" was overflowing with personality and catchy hooks, its 2023 sibling lacks any kind of punch, or any semblance of the quality songwriting that made "Sunbeams" such an exciting ... read more
a good album by arlo. highlights are peagasus, devotion, impurities and weightless. there weren’t any major let downs for the album in my opinion. can’t wait to she what they do next.
loved her first album a lot, but these sorta lack all the charm and soul that those had.
1 | Bruiseless 1:11 | 69 |
2 | Impurities 3:49 | 73 |
3 | Devotion 2:45 | 77 |
4 | Blades 3:41 | 80 |
5 | Purple Phase 4:24 | 73 |
6 | Weightless 4:02 | 79 |
7 | Pegasus 3:06 feat. Phoebe Bridgers | 75 |
8 | Dog Rose 3:08 | 72 |
9 | Puppy 3:13 | 68 |
10 | I'm Sorry 3:07 | 67 |
11 | Room (Red Wings) 4:28 | 71 |
12 | Ghost 3:47 | 67 |
#10 | / | Dork |
#18 | / | Esquire |
#20 | / | WXPN |
#21 | / | The Forty-Five |
#42 | / | Billboard |
#55 | / | Piccadilly Records |
#71 | / | Under the Radar |
#87 | / | Rough Trade (UK) |
#100 | / | Rolling Stone |
/ | Albumism |