The pop-star magic of 2022’s massive “Bad Habit,” one of the defining hits of the TikTok era, was its ability to sound like a big, professional smash while retaining the intimacy of a bedroom demo. The unexpected breakout from Steve Lacy’s Grammy-winning Gemini Rights widened the scope of his talky, lo-fi aesthetic while maintaining the looseness of a musician freestyling in his childhood bedroom. Compared to his earlier work with the Internet, “Bad Habit” captured a specific, casual awkwardness that felt both personal and universal. It was a rare feat that many artists spend their entire careers trying to replicate.
The Pressure of the Industry Machine
However, the effortless nature of “Bad Habit” was anything but accidental. With collaborators like Fousheé, Diana Gordon, and John Carroll Kirby, Lacy workshopped the track for nearly a year. That spirit of a tinkering prodigy dropped into the industry machine seems to permeate Oh yeah?, Lacy’s first album in four years. While the record attempts to scale up his musical palette, it often lacks the organic spark that made his previous work so compelling. The strategy is visible, and at times, it feels like the music is trying too hard to be chill.
Inconsistent Writing and Emotional Distance
The primary issue with Oh yeah? is its inconsistent writing. Tracks dealing with breakups, sex, and new love often fall into clichés that feel too vague to resonate. On the synthy dream-pop intro “oh yeah?,” the lyrics lack the personality one expects from an artist of his caliber. Even on tracks like “nice shoes,” the production—a somewhat lifeless drum’n’bass rhythm—fails to elevate the material. When he does attempt to get personal, such as on “the feeling,” the sentiment feels vacant, leaving the listener searching for a connection that never quite arrives.
Finding the Spark
Despite these missteps, the album does feature moments where Lacy’s natural wit shines through. When he takes the guardrails off, as he does on the warped breakdown of “lovesexdrugbomb,” he displays a sharp, wicked sense of humor. Similarly, the acoustic singalong “show you me” offers a glimpse of his potential, blending flirty, conversational scraps with genuine emotional vulnerability. It is in these moments—where the songs sound easy and unforced—that Lacy reminds us why he became a star in the first place. Ultimately, Oh yeah? is a record of a young artist navigating the difficult transition between being a bedroom producer and a global pop star, often at the expense of his own unique voice.