RAYE is not playing it safe on her second album. She is going all in.
Released March 27, THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE feels like a full evolution. It blends jazz and alternative pop into something that is way more personal, telling a story about heartbreak, healing, and finding some kind of peace on the other side.
The project follows her debut My 21st Century Blues, which gave her a major breakthrough moment with “Escapism.” and ultimately earned British Album of the Year. That album introduced people to her honesty, but this one takes it even further.
Right away, you can hear the shift. This is not built for easy playlists or quick hits. It is bigger, more experimental, and way more ambitious. Where songs like “Escapism” and “Oscar Winning Tears.” leaned into traditional pop structure, this album stretches into new spaces. She plays with her voice, her delivery, and even how the songs are structured.
“I Will Overcome.” sets the tone early. It is theatrical, dramatic, and kind of overwhelming in a way that feels intentional. From there, the album builds out like a story, introducing different characters and perspectives across its 73 minute runtime.
One of the most interesting parts is how she creates these characters. There is the “South London lover boy,” who she paints as charming but emotionally unavailable, warning listeners he is “not looking for a heart, just your pillow to rest his head.” It is specific, but it feels universal at the same time.
Then you get tracks like “The WhatsApp Shakespeare.” which lean into dark humor while still hitting on something real. Lines like “Run, Juliet, run, Juliet, run / Silence all notifications” land because they feel honest. It is messy, modern heartbreak without trying to romanticize it.
Production wise, this might be the most impressive part of the album. It pulls heavily from jazz, blues, and cinematic influences, with moments that feel closer to a film score than a pop record. “Click Clack Symphony.” stands out here, especially with contributions from Hans Zimmer(like hello?) and the London Symphony Orchestra. It adds a level of scale that you do not hear often in pop right now.
At first, the album can feel chaotic. There is a lot happening, and it is not always easy to process on a casual listen. But the more time you spend with it, the more it starts to click. What feels overwhelming at first starts to feel intentional.
Vocally, RAYE carries the entire thing. She moves between softer, almost conversational moments and these bigger, more dramatic deliveries without losing control. That range is what keeps the album grounded, even when everything around it feels huge.
It is not a short listen, and it is not always an easy one. Seventeen tracks and over an hour of music is a lot, especially when it is this dense. But that discomfort feels like part of the point.
