As Pride Month comes to a close, another outwardly, and proudly queer album that deserves a listen (or re-listen if you’re already familiar) is If I Could Make It Go Quiet from girl in red.
There’s a kind of emotional whiplash that comes with If I Could Make It Go Quiet, the debut full-length from girl in red (yes, that’s stylised correctly, and yes it upsets my want to capitalise tracks and artist names). But, I mean that as a compliment. It’s a record that veers from delicate heartbreak to wall-of-sound angst in the space of a verse and a half, and somehow makes both feel equally raw and real. Not subtle, but not trying to be. It’s more like someone kicking open a diary and yelling the contents from the rooftops.
If you’re expecting soft bedroom pop like some of her earlier material (no albums – just Soundcloud but actually good). You will get flashes of it, but this is something louder, sharper, and far more chaotic. The opener, Serotonin, doesn’t ease you in gently. It’s a full-blown panic spiral set to a beat, with talk of intrusive thoughts, therapy, and a kind of breathless, frenzied energy that’s instantly gripping. From the jump, it’s clear this isn’t going to be a delicate indie stroll. It’s more like being flung into the middle of a very intense phone call.
There’s a brilliant sense of contradiction running through the whole album. Tracks like Body and Mind, and You Stupid Bitch pair glossy, clean production with some of the most brutally frank lyrics you’ll hear. It’s vulnerable, but never soft. Even when she’s talking about longing or emotional collapse, there’s this defiant undercurrent, as if admitting weakness is, in itself, a kind of strength.
Vocally, girl in red sits somewhere between a sneer and a sigh. It’s not technically polished, but that’s kind of the point. You’re not here for perfection, you’re here because it sounds like someone trying to make sense of their own head in real time. And on that front, it delivers in spades. There’s an intimacy to it, even at its noisiest, that makes you feel like you’re being trusted with something.
Musically, the album bounces between guitar-driven indie rock, warped synth-pop, and moments of stripped-back stillness. Apartment 402 is one of the quietest tracks, but it might be the most affecting. Just a simple, exhausted reflection on depression, loneliness, and the numbing routine of it all. Nothing fancy. Just honest. And it hits.
That said, there are moments where the loud-quiet-loud dynamic starts to feel a little too rehearsed, like the structure of some tracks leans a bit too hard on the tension/release formula. A couple of songs blur together if you’re not listening closely. But it’s a small complaint in the grand scheme of things, especially given how tightly constructed the whole album feels.
One of the best things about If I Could Make It Go Quiet is how unashamed it is about its feelings. There’s no ironic detachment, no hiding behind metaphor or aloof coolness. It’s openly queer, openly anxious, and openly furious at times, and it’s that lack of filter that gives it such weight. The production might be slicker than her earlier stuff (again…it was on Soundcloud), but the core of it, that heart-on-sleeve chaos, is fully intact.
It’s not perfect, and it doesn’t try to be. But that’s exactly why it works. It’s messy, emotional, loud, quiet, hopeful, and despairing – all the emotions and the kitchen sink. There are no answers here, no tidy resolutions. Just one person trying to turn the noise in their head into something you can sing along to. And honestly? That’s more than enough.
Author: Tom, Cardiff Store
