Despite the pastel aesthetic of the cover of Melanie Martinez’s newest album, don’t be fooled— K-12 is definitely not your typical bubblegum pop. The album, co-produced by Martinez and Michael Keenan, has quickly become a success, raking in almost half a million dollars after being released only one month ago. This is likely due to the album’s unique perspective on grappling with taboo social issues through music, by uniquely presenting it in a facade of ruffled innocence and doll-like falsetto. Varying pitches, sound effects inspired by the childhood theme of the album, and disturbing, painfully honest lyrics bring you into the world of Martinez’s singing persona, an innocent version of herself who goes by the name Cry Baby, as she navigates a dystopian universe uncomfortably similar to our own. 

     With her first album, Martinez took us into the “Dollhouse,” and this time we’re going back to school— from kindergarten to twelfth grade. The album was an instant success, but what makes this album so different from her previous album, Cry Baby? Martinez says “There’s so many differences between [K-12 and Cry Baby]. Sonically, [K-12] sounds much more grown because I’ve grown as a person, and you can really see that in the art and music. Aside from that, it took so much longer than [Cry Baby], and I put so much of myself into it.” The album also contains constant altered repetition and Ariana Grande style “rapping,” melodic chanting echoed with high notes but not fully sung, which makes it bears resemblance to alternative pop albums like Julia Michaels’ Inner Monologue Part 1 or Billie Eilish’s 2017 single “Ocean Eyes.” 

     Martinez’s deep rooted personal struggles are evident in the music as well. For example, in the song “Show and Tell,” the imagery conveyed by the song is a puppet on strings, as Martinez croons sweetly, “Why is it so hard to see/If I cut myself I would bleed/I’m just like you you’re like me/Imperfectly human are we.” These poignant words echoed hauntingly for weeks in my mind after listening to the track. Martinez’s own experiences with the press in the past (her wallet was stolen once by a fan), heavily influence it, and bring a beautiful rawness to the album. In the song, she speaks candidly about the duality and unethical practices in regards to the way female celebrities are treated in the music industry, and by their borderline obsessive fan bases. Additionally, “Class Fight,” one of the more plot-driven songs in relation to the full-length film Martinez released alongside the album, is about systematic sexism, and how it negatively effects women in the music business. The song details the trials and tribulations of celebrity status, and how women are taught to fight each other rather than building each other up and supporting one another. 

     Larger social issues, outside of Martinez’s comfort zone, also play a major role in the album. Some of these are extremely effective, like “Principal,” a brilliant song based on the current political climate, dealing with social issues like dictatorship and capitalism. However, “Orange Juice,” a take on bulimia, is unfamiliar territory for Martinez— and it shows. The song uses an example of bulimia, eating oranges and throwing them up into orange juice, and unfortunately, the majority of the lyrics focus only on that example, which effectively oversimplies the complexities of builmia. Rather than educating her young fan base on body positivity, like she does eloquently in “Strawberry Shortcake,” she ignores the painful reality of eating disorders. At one point in the song Martinez sings“No more orange juice,” but fails to say not to, which could be dangerous to her young listeners by romanticising the psychologically-inflicted disorder. Nevertheless, in the majority of the album she portrays common teenage issues, like dress codes, crushes, feeling trapped, and bullying in a unique way that feels true to the human experience.

     My favorite song by far is “Strawberry Shortcake,” the crowning jewel of the album. The song delicately addresses prevalent issues for impressionable female teens with strongly opinionated, carefully thought-out lyrics. Martinez sings, “Got sent home to change ‘cuz my skirt was too short/It’s my fault/It’s my fault/’Cuz I put icing on top/Now the boys want a piece of this strawberry shortcake/That's my bad, that's my bad, no one taught them not to grab.” The use of this metaphor illustrates to Martinez’s key fan demographic that they are not alone, but in a discreet, less overwhelming way. As a female teenager, I can speak from experience that we live in a world where hating your own body and struggling with serious eating disorders is becoming an unfortunate norm. I am only thirteen years old, and I have already been catcalled while I was walking down the street, sent inappropriate messages from strangers via social media, been punished for breaking the dress code at school because my clothes were too “distracting” for my male classmates, have starved myself, and have stuck two fingers down my throat in hopes that I would lose a pound or two. However, this song, and the album as a whole, resonates with my personal struggles, and makes an unapologetically genuine statement about the cruelties of the world and how it negatively impacts teenagers across the globe— especially young women.

     A signature stylistic choice of K-12 is the noteworthy sound design of the album. In the opening song of the album, “Wheels on the Bus,” the bullying message is overlaid with distinct background tracks that help it stand out from conventional pop songs. The album is chronological, so Cry Baby is supposed to be in kindergarten, which is why Martinez and her producers ingeniously incorporated the original nursery rhyme of the same name, “Wheels on the Bus,” to illustrate youthful innocence. Martinez reveals that “[Me and my producer, Michael Keenan] would literally just sit through a bunch of sounds and try to find sounds that related or at least triggered the visual of what it is that I’m saying in the story. There was a lot of sound design in the songs.” These carefully selected sound effects make an unusual way of delivering an album—through a story-line—easier to grasp. In addition, the tone of Martinez’s voice intentionally changes a plethora of times to better illustrate the heavy emotions of her songs, which is rarely done amongst pop artists. For example, in “Show and Tell,” Martinez adapts a more natural form of her voice, while “Wheels on the Bus,” “Lunchbox Friends,” and “Recess” are almost entirely sung in falsetto. 

     The ideas of school, mental illness, the flaws of the entertainment industry, eating disorders, body positivity, and navigating a relationship should not all work together in one album cohesively, but somehow K-12 not only accomplishes that, but goes above and beyond. However, keep in mind that it contains mature content and language, so make sure you have approval from your parent or guardian to listen to it. However, it is well worth it because this album is worthy of being celebrated for decades to come as a staple of twenty-first century alternative pop. Kindergarten through twelfth grade isn’t about drawing hand turkeys and going through puberty anymore— and it will never be the same.

Bibliography

     Hazen, Zoe. “Melanie Martinez Mixes Music, Movies and the Macabre with ‘K-12.’” TheWrap. 4 Sept. 2019. Web. 5 Sept. 2019.

     Wass, Mike. “Interview: Melanie Martinez On ‘K-12’ & Stepping Into Her Power.” Idolator. Web. 6 Sept. 2019.