POP’S RESIDENT BAD GIRL TEACHES US THE POWER OF VULNERABILITY, BARING THE FULL KALEIDOSCOPE OF HER SOUL IN NEW ALBUM TRUSTFALL

BY MADELYN DAWSON

Under sparkling lights, her body descends from the ceiling. She dangles over the stage, draped across silk fabric strands. With her microphone tilted backward and head facing the crowd, Pink delivers fl awless vocals, glossy runs, and sandpaper-covered wails while suspended in the air. No, she isn’t afraid of spectacle, but she matches her showmanship with substance. Her performance is in a class of its own, her talent equally as singular.

In her ninth full-length studio album TRUSTFALL, Pink continues to explore the bounds of her selfhood. Equal parts understated introspection and anthemic affirmation, TRUSTFALL shows a side of the 43-year-old artist that’s more vulnerable than ever, proving there’s strength in being open and raw. TRUSTFALL is an exercise in maturity, a far cry from 2008’s “So what, I’m still a rock star.” In 2023, Pink doesn’t have to remind us that she is a rock star – she has more than solidifi ed her legend status – and instead chooses to explore the more intimate sides of her existence.

In the opening ballad “When I Get there,” she sings to her late father, addressing him in heaven: “Is there a song you just can’t wait to share? I know you’ll tell me when I get there.” From the very fi rst song, Pink puts our hearts in our throats, playing the melodies on their strings. “When I Get There” gives way to the bouncy and futuristic title track TRUSTFALL, pop-ballad collaboration with The Lumineers, then the folksy “Kids In Love” featuring First Aid Kit. Each track shows a diff erent facet of Pink’s artistic scope, yet they all come together in their introspection. In each story, she looks back on the past with a newfound self-aware, grown-up perspective.

Though the journey is emotive, Pink still remembers to have fun. On the track “Never Gonna Not Dance Again,” she asserts, “But one thing I’m never gonna do is take off my dancing shoes.” Her rock roots shine in “Hate Me,” as her potent lower register drawls, “Victim, victim, such a perfect victim. Hate me, hate me, I’m the villain you made me.” She is witty and sharp, but delivers with a depth that forces us to take in and experience every word. Songs “Lost Cause” and “Feel Something” mark some of the hardest-hitting and emotional moments of the album, as Pink candidly refl ects upon her past failures and shortcomings. She is unapologetic – rather, anti-apologetic – as she sings “Throw your sticks and stones at me, but don’t call me a lost cause.”

The album closes with its third collaboration, a duet with country legend Chris Stapleton titled “Just Say I’m Sorry,” where she meditates on pride. The two voices are laden with desperation, as they beg for pride to be given up in favor of love. Love, more than anything else, is the guiding force of Pink’s TRUSTFALL. She sings of a deep love, of family, of music, and ultimately of herself, each page of her diary proving more raw, genuine, and touching than the last.