Chloe Slater’s latest EP, ‘Love Me Please’, explores disillusionment under late-stage capitalism
Exploding onto the indie music scene in February of this year, Chloe’s five song EP is fresh and poignant, overflowing with clever lyrics and biting criticism directed at our increasingly dystopian zeitgeist.
With Love Me Please, Chloe is vulnerable and unapologetic throughout, speaking for a generation that’s fed up with the status quo.
The first track, Tiny Screens, is a middle finger to influencer wannabes backed by instrumentals reminiscent of 90s grunge. The first few verses are quick as if you’re scrolling through your feed, always on to the next thing. Then, in a scathing dig, the chorus crescendos “come on honey let’s get big on tiny screens / we’ll be like Marilyn Monroe with Turkey teeth / and no legacy”. Often, our attention on a single post rewards an influencer with the momentary high of the limelight and more money than most of us will make in a year. Chloe’s lyrics drip with frustration - she’s over it. Social media was supposed to be fun, not for hawking overpriced products that don’t work. Or at least, social media was supposed to be a tool for making connections and growing community - that’s how Chloe’s using it, to promote her art. She understands the irony; the last line of the song is, after all, “love me please”.
If Tiny Screens is about selling your soul for fifteen seconds of fame, then track two, Sucker is about keeping your soul when the big-time fame hits. The suits are out of touch - “I wonder if they’ve ever been / on the other side of a counter” - and won’t hesitate to use their power to get the masses to idolize them and the stars they represent to change who they are to keep the cash flowing into their pockets.
With steady drums and catchy guitar riffs, Chloe promises “if I make it / then I won’t straighten my teeth / I’m gonna give it all away” and given the raw, fiery nature of her lyrics, you can believe she’s being genuine. She doesn’t want to change who she is to chase her dream and instead wants to share her “bigger portion of the rising sun” so she knows she’s made a positive difference unlike the “suits” in all their hypocrisy. A captivating song smartly placed on the heels of Tiny Screens.
The days of body positivity and loving yourself as you are feel like a distant fever dream. Enter the next hit on this EP, Fig Tree, inspired by Sylvia Plath’s poem by the same name. Chloe hits on the pressures young women face to be eternally youthful and appealing: “I’m gonna buy a new cream / [...] how much more do I get / before my looks get tired”. More and more, women are bombarded with the message that expensive anti-aging products and elaborate skin care routines are the only way they can keep their value past a certain age.
Much like Chloe’s song, Plath’s poem, Fig Tree, explores the paradox of choice, “From every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned.” Chloe lists all the things women are told to do in the song’s bridge “choose youth / choose smooth / let lasers touch your bare skin / don’t drink / don’t blink”. It goes on and on – too many regimens to choose from has us fearing that we’re doing ourselves a disservice if we choose this one instead of that one. The song ends as Chloe repeats “I’ll choose a life that is mine” encouraging listeners to focus on what they actually want instead of what society and social media tells them to want. Fig Tree is a memorable, empowering feminist anthem for our current timeline.
While the first three tracks on Love Me Please address big, sweeping themes in our culture right now, the last two zero in. We’re Not the Same calls out that guy in the music industry who thinks he’s unique and interesting because he dresses in “vintage designer” and likes Tarantino films, when really, he’s just building a personality around what he thinks people will like. The chorus makes a sharp distinction between artists like Chloe and the posers she’s referring to, “We’re not the same / stay on your pedestal / and I’ll stay on my soapbox”. Sure, a soapbox may not be as aesthetically pleasing as a shiny pedestal but at least it’s real.
The last song, Imposter, is the calm after the upbeat, high volume, exhausted rage that preceded it. Chloe pours her heart out, “but I'm flesh and I'm bones and I'm love and I'm lust / I've lied and I've cried on the back of the bus”, and who hasn’t, really! Striving for perfection in a world where we’re constantly fed the best versions of others is an impossible task making way for imposter syndrome to settle within us. Through atmospheric instrumentals, Imposter’s lyrics gently acknowledge that making mistakes and experiencing challenges doesn’t mean we don’t belong, it’s just that we’re human.
Love Me Please is at once thoughtful and ruthless in its critique of the impossible standards women are expected to uphold, corporate suits with too much money, and the phonies we can’t get away from on and off our screens.
In a February Instagram post announcing the release of her EP, Chloe said, “I cannot describe how good it feels to have my second EP out in the world [...] I poured my heart and soul into these songs and had the best time making them.” With Love Me Please, Chloe has proven that she’s well on her way to becoming one of the most prolific social commentators of her generation.
Soon to head out on tour with the rising popstar Alessi Rose, make sure to follow Chloe Slater on Instagram to follow along with her journey. As always, you can enjoy the rest of her music on Spotify: