Ruby

It can be hard to break out of a band, especially when it’s one of the most famous girl groups of all time. The BLACKPINK members have temporarily disbanded to pursue solo efforts, with most of them releasing records in the past few months to mixed results — Rosé was detrimentally bland on rosie and LISA’s supposed swagger didn’t translate on Alter Ego. But bolstered by big names that complement rather than dilute JENNIE’s ideas, the BLACKPINK star arrives with a tantalizing, interesting debut — making her far and away the frontrunner of the quartet for a successful solo career.

JENNIE’s talents make themselves known pretty early on. She holds her weight against Doechii on “ExtraL,” an infectious Jersey club anthem where each performer grips the listener’s attention and doesn’t let go. “like JENNIE,” an electric English-Korean hybrid track that displays her ability to get everyone up — “Who else got ‘em obsessed like JENNIE?” she asks, a run-of-the-mill brag, but here, it’s correct. She’s Jennie From The Block on “with the IE (way up)” where she drips charisma and veers dramatic only occasionally. “Bulletproof glass when I’m riding through” is a little much, as well as the awkward ad-lib “Pop yo shit” on “ExtraL.”

But JENNIE is experienced in contemporary R&B as much as in pop. The two psychedelic tracks, “Handlebars” and “Love Hangover,” see her trade verses with Dua Lipa and Dominic Fike about the intoxicating powers of love. “I could be the rest of your life or whatever,” she sings on the former, attempting to hide her desire, and she sounds light as a feather on “Love Hangover” with Fike to ground her. “Damn Right” tries to emulate a similar chill-out energy with Childish Gambino and Kali Uchis, but it’s the only time she seems outmatched by her collaborations; it’s pretty transparent in its vibe. Even she doesn’t feel confident in the lyric “You saw me whip my hair in the wind playing Beyoncé.”

Thankfully, Ruby dips into banality only occasionally. The worst offender is “Mantra” — its flagship line “This that pretty girl mantra” is the first of many inevitable Sabrina Carpenter “Espresso” derivatives mixed with corny Lizzo-isms, maximally engineered for playlist fodder. Likewise, “start a war” is stilted and vague, its melody recognizable from pop songs like Charli xcx’s “White Mercedes” and her bandmate Rosé’s “APT.”

Ruby does start to lose steam as well as JENNIE’s endearing personality in the back half. Songs like “Seoul City” or “Filter” could be made by anyone, and “F.T.S.” (“fuck this shit”) is a tough attempt at comedy with its strings atop modern text terminology. At least “Starlight” takes some sonic risks since its repetitive chorus wears quickly; the same can’t be said for the closer, an acoustic ballad named “twin” which crams in vulnerability about an old friend. “It’s like I’m writing a letter, but I’m writing a song,” she says over and over, as if the two are incompatible.

But these ending tracks feel label-mandated to flesh out an album rather than the heart of JENNIE’s artistic quality. Ruby is full of contemporary pop gems that feel unburdened by trends or the whims of the market — it’s a debut that feels worth listening to, which is uncommon amidst groupmates going solo. “They could never ever be JENNIE,” she brags up top, and it feels pretty accurate.