Album Anniversaries: 5 Years of Carly Rae Jepsen Channeling Irrepressible ‘Emotion’

Luminous synths and romantic idealism come together for the ‘80s-inspired masterpiece that’s now consistently hailed as one of the best pop albums of the 2010s.

In Album Anniversaries, writers honor their favorite aging albums and their subsequent legacies, revealing which projects have stood the test of time.

Written by Annie Lyons

To the uninitiated, Carly Rae Jepsen may appear an unlikely battle general — but her cult-like fans know better. For the past couple of years, they’ve united around a single combat cry (“Give Carly Rae Jepsen a sword”) and have taken every opportunity to bestow an inflatable weapon into her hands to lead the charge.

Such fervor did not materialize from the start of Jepsen's career. But five years ago, something shifted with the release of her third studio album Emotion, a masterclass in pop with catchy hooks and ‘80s sheen. You can hear it within the rousing opening notes of the album: “Run Away With Me” erupts with a bellowing saxophone riff before catapulting off into racing synths and stampeding drums. When Jepsen sings, “Run away with me,” it’s a command, not a plea. There’s no choice but to fall in line.

The third place runner-up in season five of “Canadian Idol,” Jepsen released her debut album, the indie folksy Tug of War, in 2008. She didn’t break out of her home country until a few years later when a little song named “Call Me Maybe” infiltrated the public consciousness.

With buoyant strings and sugar rush charisma, “Call Me Maybe” possessed equal parts meme-ability and genuine catchiness in a formula that destined it for virality. A tweet and a lip sync video from Justin Bieber boosted the single to unbelievable heights, landing her a record deal with Bieber’s manager, Scooter Braun (yes, that Scooter Braun). The singer’s newfound fame had its drawbacks. Jepsen rushed to complete her new album in under two months while “Hey, I just met you!” still lingered on everyone’s lips.

She might’ve been better off taking her time. The bubblegum pop of 2012’s Kiss only achieved middling success. From the start, the album was cursed to live in the shadow of “Call Me Maybe,” already a cultural zeitgeist covered by everyone from the U.S. Olympic Swim Team to Cookie Monster.

Jepsen knew she didn’t want to repeat the formula. “I remember saying to whoever would listen, ‘Next album, it’s not going to be like this. I’m taking my bloody time,’” she said in a 2015 interview with the Los Angeles Times. The songwriter took a three year gap for a creative reset. Recalling the musical theatre of her childhood, she starred as Cinderella on Broadway. Then, she made an offbeat indie album that she said “probably no one will ever hear.”

Jepsen also penned an astronomical 250 songs during this time that would eventually become Emotion (stylized as E•MO•TION). While the 2015 record was a chance for the artist to take the creative control she craved, she didn’t set out to prove that she wasn’t a one-hit wonder.

Instead, she wanted to craft the pop she loves. Drawing from her passion for ‘80s music, Jepsen synthesizes electro-pop, new wave, disco, and house music throughout Emotion. Even more than its sound, the album channels the ‘80s with its heightened sentimentality. In a 2016 interview with SFGate, Jepsen described her passion for ‘80s pop music: “What I loved was how potent some of those lyrics were — how heart wrenching, how everyone’s tea leaves are just right there on their sleeve,” she said. “In music today, everything is a little more coy, but I wanted that romance and that fantasy, and I think that a lot of people (my) age do.”

Staying true to the record’s name, Jepsen deals with lots of feelings: Big Feelings. More often than not, she sings of unrequited love throughout Emotion, all secret crushes and forbidden desires. Yet Jepsen steers clear of melancholy, instead supercharging each song with dance-floor electricity for the moments when your body betrays your mind.

Over the interlacing pulsing beats and moody synths of the Rostam Batmanglij-produced “Warm Blood,” she loses control: “And you have got me going / Spinning in circles 'round your warm blood.” The experimental vocal effects give the song a haunting, late-night intimacy. (Carly might want to suck your blood, but it’s going to be hot!)

“Making the Most of the Night” is a triumph of similar proportions, shining with high-paced synths, rollicking percussion, and a funky bassline. The song details Jepsen’s desire to sooth a lover’s pains. Rather than any balm, she proposes escapism at its finest, evoking a neon-tinted night drive racing down an oceanside highway. “Here I come to hijack you,” she declares.

Jepsen always worries about saying too much too soon. “Oh, did I say too much? / I’m so in my head when we’re out of touch,” she frets in lead single “I Really Like You,” an exuberant taste of electro-pop fit for summer. “'Cause I want what I want, do you think that I want too much?” she wonders again in “Gimmie Love.” Her chant of “gimmie love” throughout the chorus sounds twee on paper, but it’s one of the album’s best moments, with each intonation full of perceptible yearning over a delirious bass line.

While Emotion never feels dated, thanks to its alternative production, some songs channel more nostalgia than others. “Black Heart” goes for unique retro 8-bit instrumentation that makes you wonder why the extended edition track didn’t make the original cut. The Sia co-written “Boy Problems” playfully eschews pop stereotypes of vapidity in its lyricism, while deferring to the best of the genre with effervescent dance-pop production.

Produced by Dev Hynes of Blood Orange and Ariel Rechtshaid, “All That” is one of the album’s only ballads, a seductive slow-burn that simmers with soul-funk touches and bass slaps reminiscent of ‘80s Prince. As usual, Jepsen lays it all on the page: “When you need me, I will never let you come apart / When you need me, I will be your candle in the dark.” The climactic build-up for the final chorus, set against twinkling synths and ‘80s-style gated reverb drums, make her simple hopes for a long term lover resonate deeply.

Emotion received highly positive reviews but a common critique: For all the pop bliss, Jepsen herself remains an enigmatic persona. There’s some truth here. In the relatively weaker cuts, her lyrics skew too vague to make their desired impact. “I’m not the type of girl you call more than a friend,” she sings in “Your Type,” while never going so far to describe what type of girl she is.

But it’s a bolder — and incorrect — suggestion that Jepsen hasn’t found her niche role within a crowded pop scene. She’s the ringleader for a dance party, the artist you put on when you want to feel like the protagonist in your life. She’s who you go to when you’re imagining a boombox outside your window, or meeting eyes across a crowded room with someone who could be The One. After all, confessions of love go down a little easier with cinematic synths backing them.

Jepsen celebrates such rom-com sensibilities. The euphoria of “Run Away With Me” hinges on imagery of a couple sneaking away into the unknown night (“I'll be your sinner in secret / When the lights go out”), and it’s all too easy to imagine slo-mo taking effect under flashing club lights in the house cut “I Didn’t Just Come Here To Dance.” Like the best selections of the similarly disserved movie genre, Jepsen’s brand of pop finds strength in its unbridled joy, and her crisp, light vocals suit the endearing sweetness.

The joy wasn’t initially catching. Emotion suffered from a bungled rollout and confused marketing. Despite receiving critical praise and making innumerable end-of-year lists, it was a commercial flop, faring even worse than Kiss. This started another narrative that wound up placing a sword in her hands: Carly Rae the underdog.

Give her a sword!!! Photo courtesy of John Vettese and WXPN

Granted, Jepsen still has enough name recognition and devoted fans that it’s a stretch to call her indie and laughable to call her underground. Yet she’s always been a few paces outside of the mainstream pop scene, and nearly a decade after the fact, she’s still the “Call Me Maybe” singer to a good number of listeners.

For her largely LGBTQ+ fanbase, however, there’s nothing like rallying around an underrated artist, especially one who writes well-crafted pop songs that hone in on experiences deeply felt by the community: anticipation, excitement, hesitation, yearning. As Lyndsey Mckenna put it for NPR, Jepsen has created her own world that’s “technicolored-hued, insular but not exclusionary, where absurdity and enthusiasm are equally cherished.” It’s not hard to understand why her fans champion such a place and tote Jepsen as their anointed warrior.

And regardless of how it fared commercially, Emotion resonated artistically. Such ‘80s callbacks were well under way by its 2015 release, but the album directly inspired a new wave of synth-pop that has yet to let up five years later. Look no further than The Aces, Maggie Rogers, Paramore’s After Laughter, and Dua Lipa’s Future Nostalgia for Emotion’s influence.

While Jepsen’s ‘80s synths have caught on, her heart-on-cheek charm still feels like a kiss from the past. Pop got weirder in the late 2010s, trending toward moodier soundscapes and darker themes over earnest appeal. In a year desperate for finding much-needed escapism, Emotion still lives up to its title track’s promise of rosy imagination: “In your fantasy, dream about me, and all that we could do with this emotion.” Cheesiness never tasted so good.

ANALYSISAfterglow ATXAugust 21, 2020annie lyons