Album Review: On ‘Petals For Armor,’ Hayley Williams Learns To Be Soft And Go It Alone

In the aftermath of a divorce and in the midst of mental illness, the Paramore singer steps out from her band to release shame, embrace femininity, and accept love.

Written by Carys Anderson 

Photo courtesy of Lindsey Byrnes

A third of the way into her debut solo album, Hayley Williams, the larger-than-life Paramore frontwoman known for bounding across stages belting songs about tenacity, drops to her speaking voice for a moment of frailty. 

“Alright, it took me three days to send you this, but uh … sorry. I was in a depression, but I’m trying to come out of it now.” 

These words, uttered in a voice memo opening the song “Dead Horse,” are Petals For Armor’s mission statement. The record, released May 8 via Atlantic, came together from therapist-suggested writing sessions to confront long-repressed traumas, from Williams’ childhood to her toxic, decade-long relationship with New Found Glory’s Chad Gilbert. Released in three parts over the span of a few months, the music matches its creator’s journey: simmering, bare-bones meditations on rage and grief give way to buoyant, wide-ranging expressions of love and freedom. 

When the album begins, Williams is despondent. She searches for balance between wrath and mercy in spiteful opener “Simmer,” and grapples with loss in “Leave It Alone.” But she’s trying to pull it together. “Becoming friends with a noose that I made,” she sings in the latter, backed by a crescendo of dissonant strings. “Turn it into something useful / Maybe hang it through a window pane / Turn it into a fire escape.” This is Williams in transition. As the album progresses, she grows more spirited to match her burgeoning self-love.  

“Cinnamon” is a funky ode to Williams’ home and, more broadly, her independence. She gleefully mentions talking to her dog, now her only roommate. “Eat my breakfast in the nude / Lemon water, living room / Home is where I’m feminine / Smells like citrus and cinnamon,” goes the second verse, before an infectious hook of ahhs and oohs takes over. Lines like these and even the album’s title reference Williams’ desire to embrace femininity, a goal that becomes a major theme of the album. Her tough, one of the boys persona has long been a coping mechanism for being a woman in a male-dominated industry, but in Petals For Armor, she finds strength in vulnerability. No traditionally maligned markers of softness are left unclaimed; no uncomfortable feeling is left undeclared. 

The flamboyant singalong “Dead Horse,” for example, doubles as a kiss-off to Gilbert and an admission of Williams’ own guilt. “I got what I deserved / I was the other woman first,” she confesses, shedding light on the betrayal that served as the foundation and destruction of their 10-year relationship. 

Williams has a knack for writing twisted love songs, and Petals For Armor offers an essential development. Her depictions of relationships have always been riddled with water metaphors. “I’ll swim out to wherever you are … Come up for air just so you know we won’t drown,” she promises in Paramore’s upbeat 2013 song “Proof.” By 2017’s “Pool,” however, Williams describes her husband as the wave she could never tame but that she’d dive back into repeatedly, living life underwater with no air in her lungs. In “Dead Horse,” she now rids herself of this toxicity for good. “Held my breath for a decade / Dyed my hair blue to match my lips,” she sings. “Pretty cool I’m still alive.” 

Photo courtesy of Atlantic Records

While Petals For Armor’s content proved too personal to release with Paramore, Williams’ bandmates were still involved in its creation. Guitarist Taylor York produced the album, and co-wrote and performed on several songs. Bassist Joey Howard has several writing and performing credits as well. But the pop-rock sound these collaborators are known for is traded here for pure pop and greater experimentation. Howard’s bass playing is a foundational highlight throughout it all; he pulses under Williams’ distorted vocals in the swaggering “Creepin’” and noodles around the playful “Taken” as Williams’ keyboards wriggle. 

“Sudden Desire” explodes from muted, melancholic guitar verses to a chorus of razor-sharp bass reminiscent of Björk’s “Army of Me.” The Icelandic pop innovator is one of many inspirations on Petals For Armor’s more experimental tracks; her influence reappears on “Sugar On The Rim,” one of the album’s most surprising and satisfying turns. While the earlier, darker track “Sudden Desire” looks back on past lust, here, Williams incredulously declares a new love her silver lining over a “Big Time Sensuality”-like dance beat. 

Petals For Armor’s middle section drags a bit, as its songs are more straightforward than the album’s bookends. The mid-tempo “My Friend” and shimmery, aerobics video-esque “Over Yet” are full of Hallmark card positivity that has neither the impact of the album’s aggrieved first third, nor the genuine hopefulness of its final third. For the most part, however, Williams’ compositions showcase carefully crafted nuance. 

The album’s final batch of songs return to the upbeat to soundtrack Williams’ newfound happiness. The singer comes full-circle in “Crystal Clear,” her most tender love song to date. Set to one of her sweetest melodies, Williams’ water metaphors return — but this time, she finds herself not drowning in love, but gliding through it. 

I remember standing on the edge
Closing my eyes
Counting to three, I
Jump in with the rush in my head
Only to find the water was concrete

And now you’re pumping air to my lungs
This don’t feel anything like sinking
In fact, no matter how deep I go
Into you, it looks like the water is crystal clear 

The album’s final third is rewarding for the singer’s personal growth, but also for its multi-genre excursions. Williams uses her voice in new and exciting ways in earlier songs, from the scatting that opens lead single “Simmer” to the depth of the lower notes that texture her more subdued ruminations. But when Williams belts, it’s an electrifying reminder of why she became famous in the first place. The R&B-tinged pop that closes Petals For Armor sounds like a Quincy Jones production, and the artist’s acrobatic vocals solidify the similarity. The throaty runs that end relationship pep-talk “Pure Love” cement Williams, once and for all, as the rock vocalist of her generation. 

A cathartic wail opens penultimate track “Watch Me While I Bloom,” as Williams, realigned, celebrates the feeling of being in touch with herself after years of emotional repression. After an hour of seeking pride in the softer side of femininity, it’s telling that she likens herself to a flower. “I’m alive in spite of me,” she quips, but Petals For Armor makes clear that staying alive was, in fact, a labor of love. Williams dared to feel everything, and the result is an album that’s eclectic, layered, and emboldening. The payoff is great.