Album Review: ‘Aurora’ by Daisy Jones and the Six Packs in Fun Moments but Overall Underwhelms Desire for '70s Classic Rock

In Taylor Jenkins-Reid’s bestselling novel “Daisy Jones and the Six,” Aurora was a revolutionary rock and roll record about sex, drugs, and love. Though the album has officially come to life with the book’s television adaptation, it falls short of its mission to properly encapsulate the charm and spirit of the classic ’70s sounds that inspired it. 

Written by Trisha Dasgupta

Photo courtesy of Pamela Littky

Scorned lovers. Absent fathers. Cheating husbands and reckless relationships. Secrets wrapped in fur coats, cowboy boots, and rocking guitar riffs. The story of “Daisy Jones and The Six” is an easy one to fall in love with.

Taylor Jenkins-Reid’s captivating 2019 novel, “Daisy Jones and The Six,” took readers by storm immediately, introducing guiltless and insatiable celebrity drama in the form of a fictional ’70s rock band and their shocking rise and fall. 

Heavily inspired by the romance and drug-fueled antics of Fleetwood Mac, Reid's novel invoked nostalgia for a bygone era of classic rock stars and their bad, bad behavior. Now, the highly anticipated on-screen adaptation of the iconic fictional band is finally here, alongside a full-length album. Aurora, Daisy Jones and The Six’s sole album and alleged masterpiece gives audiences 11 songs that emulate the cherished sounds of rock idols like The Rolling Stones and Fleetwood Mac. Produced by Blake Mills with collaborators like Phoebe Bridgers, Marcus Mumford, and rock legend Jackson Browne, Aurora had the treacherous mission of living up to the gritty, banging riffs of 70s rock and roll. Unfortunately for fans, the album doesn’t quite reach the expectations and comparisons set, instead settling on polished pop-rock songs that largely fail to meet the depth of the grit that makes classic rock so classic. 

The album kicks off with the title track, “Aurora,” described in the books as a lush love song dedicated to the wife of The Six’s frontman Billy Dunne. Slightly altered for the TV adaptation, the track’s new lyrics undercut the supposed sincerity of the song, coming off as a brazen made-for-radio single opposed to a heartfelt ode to the relationship helped Billy overcome his drug addiction:  “I kinda think I want to make it last forever / Aurora I’m here / Won’t disappear again.” Meanwhile, the lyrics initially written in the novel depict a sense of urgency in Billy’s affection: “When the wind is racing / And the storm is chasing / When even the preachers are pacing / Here comes Aurora.” The lyric changes left many fans disappointed that they didn’t  hear the lyrics they came to love in the novel, but it’s understandable that Mills and his collaborators evolved the lyrics and songs — Reid is not a songwriter or musician, after all. However, changing the title track in such a substantial way undercuts the ethos of the album and the story of “Daisy Jones and The Six” as a whole. If the title song isn’t faithful to the band’s history, it’s not a good omen for listeners and their confidence in the rest of the tracks. 

Aurora had two main missions to accomplish: emulate the groundbreaking, industry-changing rock and roll that was described in the novel, and blend in seamlessly with the beloved sounds of ’70s classic rock.

Image courtesy of Ellmar Records

The show begs for some suspension of disbelief from audiences — these are actors playing music for the first time and not real bonafide rock stars — however, there’s only so much imagination can do for songs like “Kill You to Try” and “Two Against Three.” Sounding more like an SNL skit’s take on classic rock than anything actually out of the ‘70s, the instruments, production, and gritty sound are there but lack substance to back them up, making them feel more shallow than genuine. 

Sampling from the era, such as the nod to “The Chain” by Fleetwood Mac on “Honeycomb,” could have tremendously helped in framing the album as an ode to rock instead of a fresh and revolutionary take on it. The album’s standout track, “Honeycomb” showcases passionate vocals from lead actors Riley Keough and Sam Claflin and punchy guitar solos that invoke the same type of excitement that comes from listening to The Who or Led Zeppelin. 

However, that magic is seldom revisited on the rest of the album, bar songs such as “Regret Me” and “The River,” which are clear highlights of the record. On these tracks, audiences can hear the reckless lust and devotion between Daisy and Billy’s characters, and for a few minutes, both Keough and Claflin sound like real rock stars, with a stunning nerve in their voices that add to the mystique and passion of the band. Keough’s angry vocals on “Regret Me” are heavy in her lament, making for a radiant track that channels the passion and fury that’s missing from the rest of the songs. On “The River” the actress channels her inner Stevie Nicks with unapologetic scorned vocals. If Aurora’s tracklist featured the same ardor as “The River,” it would have been monumentally closer to matching the energy described in the novel. The remaining tunes would have greatly benefited from leaning into the grit and lust that the characters are feeling, but instead fans got nuance-free on-the-nose lyrics that invite no interpretation or metaphor. 

It would have been unreasonable to expect Rock’s next masterpiece from an Amazon mini-series, and Aurora is by no means an irredeemable album. With nostalgic chords and punchy production, the album has fun moments but ultimately fails overall in its mission to  emulate the true heart and grit of what made the genre so beloved in the first place.