‘Nobody is Listening’ Review: Zayn Chills Out and Leans In

In a deafening reality where noise begets more noise, it’s easy to characterize the act of listening as odd as opposed to necessary.

Modern music often seems preoccupied with asserting itself rather than reflecting on its creator — authentic vulnerability and thoughtfulness are rare commodities.

In his newest album, “Nobody Is Listening,” however, Zayn has done some serious tuning in. The singer has clearly exempted himself from the titular accusation, punctuating a majority of song lyrics with an acute interiority that proves more emotionally substantive than his prior releases. Most refreshing is that Zayn leans into himself for his own good, not for the sake of others.

Though his two previous studio albums possessed a magnetism of their own, “Nobody is Listening” also resists his previous tendency toward bombastic riffs and superficial talk. Despite its settled-down ambience, each song presents its own unapologetic rawness, in both the lyrical and emotional senses of the word.

The album further conveys interiority through its narrative direction. Though Zayn addresses many a line to an anonymous lover (e.g. “Something told me it was you”), he is actually trying to establish a candid dialogue with himself by conversing with a partner.

On “Calamity,” Zayn experiments with an alluring blend of mumble rap and crooning vocals, suggesting that his musical development has moved a lifetime away from the candy-colored pop of his bygone One Direction days. Unlike previous smash hits such as “PILLOWTALK,” many of the singer’s newest songs exude a low-key allure that affirms Zayn is neither self-conscious nor rushed to prove his authenticity. Furthermore, he chooses a composed, reflective voice over an overly emotional one, substantiating the emergence of a keener, more mature version of one of contemporary music’s more familiar names.

Although interiority is the heartbeat of the album’s lyrics, Zayn also identifies and honors the anguish that arises from surrendering to one’s most intimate thoughts. “My mind’s in a prism shape,” he muses in his first song, “And in times like prison state.” He recognizes that a dedication to oneself is neither romantic nor pleasurable, but rather a slow and often agonizing odyssey of practice.

Yet another of the album’s subversions is the songwriter’s questioning of love through his actions. Foregoing the typical rhetoric of being head over heels for the one and only, Zayn instead challenges listeners to reevaluate what true love means — and necessitates — for those who bear the brunt of it. On “Better,” he argues that even though he still very much cares for his partner, it is best to let the relationship go before things turn sour: “Why wait to hate?” he asks. “Can we save love?” In fact, the singer argues that it is precisely because they are still in love that they should leave each other altogether: “Cause, sometimes it’s better that way / Gotta let it go so your heart don’t break / Cause I love you.”

Few, if any, hard feelings surface in Zayn’s musicality. Even when he is telling his partner that they need to end their relationship, his voice contains no malice, just a tired foresight that verges on defeatist. “Two wrongs make no right,” he sings on “Outside.” “When it’s left, at least we tried.” Time and time again, the lyricist seeks to articulate the fragility and futility of his intimate relationships.

Perhaps the album’s most arresting song is “Unfuckwitable,” in which Zayn experiments with wordsmithing, from the track’s title down to its triumphant lyrics: “I’m unfuckwitable / In a world of my own.” Solitude transforms from a reason for despair to one for celebration: “Me is all I need to be inspired / My vibe and my life are all my design.” The unapologetically confident lyrics cooly express a fresh, urgent sense of personal agency condemning superficiality as both excessive and destructive: “So tired of fake friends and fake love, you know.”

The modern landscape has made blocking out the noise near impossible, but Zayn has made an admirable — though nowhere near perfect — attempt. In fact, in his pursuit of selfhood, the songwriter just may have succeeded in reinventing himself for the better.

—Staff writer Emmy M. Cho can be reached at emmy.cho@thecrimson.com.