Album Review: Cover Girl by Lady Wray
Lady Wray lets her hair down and her light shine on her fourth studio album, and the result is a joy to witness. It’s at once a celebration of how far she’s come and a confident leap forward.
Since the release of 2022's Piece of Me, Lady Wray has been keeping it lowkey. Three years later, she’s back better than ever. Her fourth studio effort bursts out of the gate with hard-won joy and confidence. The perfect example of that comes from the single “You’re Gonna Win,” a floor-filling disco-funk anthem livened by handclaps and a gospel-tinged choir. Wray’s powerhouse vocals ride the song’s infectious groove as she belts out celebratory lines, including “You just won the lottery,” effectively turning a love song into a statement of triumph. It’s a rousing Studio 54-worthy throwback in sound—co-producer Leon Michels saturates the track with vintage flair—yet it feels fresh in spirit. This exuberance sets the tone for Cover Girl, an album that fuses ‘60s/‘70s soul and disco with ’90s R&B/hip-hop and gospel influences. A joyful, revitalized vision of Lady Wray’s sound, where one moment you’re swaying to classic soul melodies, the next you’re bouncing to a funky breakbeat or swathed in church choir harmonies. Through it all, Wray exudes self-assurance and warmth, inviting us on an emotional journey of self-love, empowerment, celebration, and personal growth.
While Wray’s previous record, Piece of Me, was an introspective meditation on impending motherhood, Cover Girl is the sound of an artist stepping fully into her light. She has described this new album as a “love yourself, treat yourself… awakening explosion,” and the songs radiate a newfound confidence. Wray now balances multiple roles—singer, wife, mother—and these songs reflect a woman who has “got [her] career, [her] motherhood, and [her] marriage by the horns.” Love and family fuel much of Cover Girl’s content, but so does an embrace of self-care. It’s a delicate balancing act that Wray handles gracefully. Credit is also due to Leon Michels’s production, which wraps Wray’s voice in analog warmth and vintage instrumentation. Michels combines punchy old-school drums and retro strings and horns with subtle modern touches, such as shimmering synths, to achieve an effortless blend of eras. The organic, analog textures recall the golden age of soul, while the grooves often nod to hip-hop. This synergy complements Wray’s vocal versatility, from her church-trained belt to her tender R&B croon. The stage is set for a record that sounds both classic and contemporary, and above all, authentically her.
The narrative arc of Cover Girl begins on an optimistic note with the opener “My Best Step.” Over a warm, ‘60s-inspired soul arrangement, Lady Wray offers an adoring ode to her husband that doubles as an affirmation of commitment. “My next step is my best step,” she sings, “When I’m walking with you… Pray that God see us through.” It’s a heartfelt vow that love will light the way forward, delivered with Wray’s tender vocals beaming confidence. In the pocket of a midtempo groove, she acknowledges that love has its ups and downs yet assures, “I’m gonna stay around… we hold the key.”
Wray keeps that momentum going on “Be a Witness,” a buoyant track that feels like fate set to music. Here she invites her partner to “be a witness [and] see what love can bring,” suggesting that together they can discover something remarkable. The song’s lyrics hint at destiny—“this was fate for us to meet… I pray to God we see this through” she declares gratefully—and its chorus carries a sense of urgency: “Time is ticking, sense of urgency.” An energetic retro-soul arrangement mirrors that urgency. Wray’s voice is full of excitement and conviction as she urges “hold on tight… don’t let go.” In these first two songs, Lady Wray is the empowered romantic, celebrating a love she’s fought to find and determined to keep.
The album then takes a poignant turn inward with “Where Could I Be.” This slow-burning ballad is Cover Girl’s emotional low point, as Wray lays bare her insecurities. Over a sparse, moody backdrop, she describes feeling lost and disconnected from herself: “I’m turning red, losing my head… forgot about me.” She admits to days spent “sipping wine… end up crying… simply for me,” and resolves that “when I do find me I’m gonna shine, take back my strength.” The refrain “Where could I be?” repeats like a haunted question, as if she’s searching for the woman she used to be. It’s a stark moment of vulnerability, made all the more powerful by Wray’s vocal delivery—you can hear the ache and confusion in her voice. Placed third in the tracklist, this song deepens the album’s narrative, showing that even amidst love and success, she has grappled with losing herself.
Having exposed those wounds, Wray pivots to healing and gratitude on “Hard Times.” In contrast to the title, this song is a groove-fueled gospel of resilience—an uplifting celebration of overcoming struggles in love. A lively beat with a wink of disco flash and soulful instrumentation drives the track, giving it a feel-good, “we made it” energy. Wray joyfully recounts how she and her partner “made it through hard times” even when others said they wouldn’t. “You never quit on me, always believed in me,” she sings gratefully, her voice soaring over exuberant horns as she praises, “that’s why you’re my guy.” One of the most touching moments comes when she references their child: “You are my world, gave you a baby girl—she’s gonna bring all the blessings and joy, nothing else we’ll need.” It’s a beautiful acknowledgement that their love has created new life and hope.
Next comes “Best for Us,” which finds Wray in a candid dialogue with her lover, determined to save a relationship on the brink. It’s a slow, pleading soul number—steady drums and churchly chords underlining the earnestness in her voice. Wray confesses that “I try my best to go to church, pray on bended knee… lord don’t let it get the best of us.” There’s tension here: “I keep loving you, you keep pushing me right away… we been at it ‘bout four days,” she laments, frustrated. Yet the chorus brings a heartfelt plea, “I just want the best for us,” repeated like a mantra to ward off their ups and downs. In one striking verse, Wray warns, “A change gonna come when you realize I’m walking out the door… try your best to keep me happy, I won’t ask for more”—an ultimatum delivered not with anger, but with aching sincerity. Still, hope shines through: she urges him to “think about the love that we felt so strong… love is right here, just surrender to it… We’ll get through it.”
At the heart of the album lies the title track, arguably the most vulnerable and empowering moment. Stripped down to piano and minimal instrumentation, the spotlight is on Lady Wray’s church-refined vocals and the message she’s delivering to herself. The song gently defies society’s beauty standards and urges a return to authenticity. “When you look at me, what do you see—am I your image of beauty?” Wray asks in the opening lines, immediately setting up a reflection on self-image. She admits, “I’ve lost myself trying to please someone else,” and resolves, “I want to be me again.” The chorus is a mantra of self-love: “Don’t cover up, cover girl/Don’t you hide from the world… you got it,” she sings, reassuring the little girl within that she is enough. In the second verse, Wray notes that makeup and fashion (“Lipstick, makeup… eyelashes, sunglasses”) aren’t what make her beautiful—a direct rebuttal to the idea that she needs to “cover up.” The emotional peak comes as she proclaims, “The joy that I have means more than anything… I know just who loves me—it’s me… I am the beauty I see.” It’s a goosebump-raising lyric in the context of her soaring, soulful delivery. Knowing that Wray wrote “Cover Girl” as a reminder to herself, inspired by a childhood nickname and by watching her young daughter’s uninhibited confidence, makes it even more poignant, as learning to love oneself openly, as freely as a child, after years of feeling the need to hide.
The final stretch of Cover Girl finds Lady Wray balancing romantic reverie with deeper introspection, bringing the album’s narrative full circle. “Time” slows things down into a bittersweet modern soul ballad that grapples with love in flux. Over a wistful melody, Wray pleads for “Time, time—stand still… hold on” even as she senses things slipping away. There’s a subtle ’90s R&B flavor here, alongside classic soul heartbreak. “We used to go out all night, wake up to kisses—I know something ain’t right when you get suspicious,” she sings, setting a scene of a relationship losing its spark. The production builds a mellow groove around her, with gentle background vocals echoing her worries. Wray’s verses alternate between hope and hurt: “I hold on to the memories… praying for our love, hope that we last,” she confides, but later admits, “All the money in the world and we couldn’t fix it.” In the bridge, her vocals ache with urgency as she implores, “Baby let’s hold on, never let go… no matter how hard,” only to falter and sing quietly, “Maybe we should just say goodbye.” It’s a poignant portrayal of two people at a crossroads, and Wray delivers it with disarming honesty.
After that somber note, “What It Means” offers a thoughtful reflection on the very nature of love and self-worth. There’s a playful bounce to this track—a hint of ‘90s hip-hop soul in the beat—as Wray essentially asks, “Do I know what it means to be loved?” The refrain is repeated in a call-and-response style that feels like Wray questioning herself in the mirror: “Do I? Do I know what it means to be loved?” Each time she poses the question, you can hear both curiosity and a bit of doubt, as if she’s measuring her past experiences against some ideal of real love. The verses sketch out a scenario: she’s met someone new who “seems happy” and might restore her faith after a rough past (“See my last guy, not a nice guy,” she notes bluntly). She flirts with the idea of commitment and domestic bliss—“I got patience, I can cook good, make my own money, we should make some babies on a Sunday,” she muses, half-serious—but underneath that is the lingering question of whether she truly knows how it feels to be loved healthily. “What It Means” stands out for its blend of old-school and new-school R&B vibes; the melody has an almost throwback sweetness, while the lyrics are distinctly modern in their frankness and humor.
The penultimate track, “Higher,” finds Lady Wray in the role of wise mentor, and it’s one of the album’s most uplifting moments. Over a bright, rising chord progression and a gently funky backbeat, she delivers an inspirational message that could be directed at her younger self, her listeners, or most likely her daughter. “You were always meant to fly… You have wings, fly free,” Wray proclaims in a glowing alto, channeling pure encouragement. The arrangement carries shades of gospel and classic R&B, which matches the song’s affirming tone. Wray urges, “Listen to your heart and to your mind… you can be anything you wanna be,” distilling a parent’s loving advice into soulful poetry. There’s a gentle warning in the lyrics too: “Darkness gonna come, don’t dim your light… be careful with your heart, keep it safe.” Her voice, rich with experience, makes these lines especially moving—you can sense the care and hope behind every word. Knowing Wray is singing to her child gives “Higher” an intimate glow; it’s as if we listeners are eavesdropping on a mother’s tender life lessons. Yet the song is universal enough that anyone could find motivation in it.
With “Calm,” the track is a slow, reflective prayer for peace—a nod to Wray’s gospel roots and a soothing bookend to the album. The instrumentation is restrained and ambient, featuring soft organ chords, a sparse drum tap like a heartbeat, and ample open space for Wray’s voice to reverberate. She lays down her burdens: “I don’t wanna hear the noise, I can’t fight anymore,” she admits wearily, “Lord knows there’s a fear, I don’t have any tears.” There’s a palpable exhaustion in those words, as if she’s fought all the battles and now simply seeks rest. Spiritual solace arrives in the form of faith: “The Lord’s holding my hand, leading me through the troubled land,” Wray affirms softly, her voice almost devotional. The melody sways like a lullaby while she repeats the word “calm,” willing serenity to wash over her. In that stillness, Wray finds resolution. The song’s gospel undertones and personal sincerity make it a quietly triumphant finale, underscoring how much growth and healing this journey has entailed.
In its 11 tracks, Cover Girl paints a vivid portrait of a woman embracing all facets of herself. Lady Wray traces a path from romantic devotion to self-doubt, from defiant self-love to exuberant celebration, and finally to spiritual peace. Each song contributes a crucial chapter to that narrative. By the end, you feel as though you’ve lived a whole arc alongside her—dancing in her joy, sitting with her pain, and ultimately sharing in her hard-earned serenity. The trajectory here is cohesive. Wray explores self-love and empowerment (especially on the title track and “Higher”), celebrates love and growth (“Hard Times,” “You’re Gonna Win”), and doesn’t shy away from introspection and vulnerability (“Where Could I Be,” “Calm”). This gives the album a genuine emotional richness. Just as importantly, Cover Girl shows how Wray has grown since her last album. There’s a noted shift from the uncertainty of impending motherhood on Piece of Me to the confidence of a woman who has come into her own. She sings like someone who knows exactly who she is and what matters most—whether it’s cherishing her family or carving out time to care for herself. Through her lyrics, she acknowledges the challenge of juggling career, family, and self-care, but she also makes it sound empowering, even joyous, to strive for that balance. This authenticity gives the record an uplifting, relatable core.
Leon Michels’s analog-soul production wraps the album in a timeless glow, full of vintage soul textures and funky retro flair, yet the vibe never feels dated or retro-for-retro’s-sake. Wray and Michels instead achieve a sweet spot where classic and contemporary meet. The arrangements nod to Wray’s influences—you can catch whiffs of Motown, Stax, 1970s disco, and even 1990s boom-bap in the rhythms—but each song also carries a modern freshness and polish. And above all, Lady Wray’s voice is the guiding force. She delivers show-stopping vocal performances throughout, whether she’s belting with raw gospel power or cooing in a tender R&B lilt. There’s a lived-in quality to her vocals now; she can convey sass, sorrow, and serenity with equal conviction. This emotional range, combined with the album’s cohesive songwriting, makes Cover Girl a thoroughly engaging listen from start to finish. There are no filler tracks—every song has its purpose in the story and its own musical charm—yet the album never feels overstuffed or erratic. One moment you’re dancing under a mirrorball, the next you’re deep in quiet reflection, but it all feels of a piece. That speaks to Lady Wray’s vision and the album’s careful shape.
Cover Girl is yet another win for Ms. Wray by being her best work as Lady Wray, and her second best overall (behind Make It Hot, obviously). It’s at once a celebration of how far she’s come and a confident leap forward. By fusing the retro soul aesthetics she loves with the candid storytelling of modern R&B, she’s crafted a record that honors her roots while standing firmly in the present. The musical and emotional arc keeps the listener invested, and the themes of empowerment, self-love, and perseverance resonate deeply without ever becoming heavy-handed. Lady Wray has truly found her groove here, balancing the roles of soulful diva, reflective songwriter, and loving mother with ease. Cover Girl feels like the fullest expression of who she is, and it leaves the listener feeling uplifted and inspired. On a scale, it’s hard to give anything but a glowing appraisal. Outside of being just an incredible soul/R&B record, it’s a personal statement rendered in vibrant color and heartfelt sound.
Standout (★★★★½)
Favorite Track(s): “Where I Could Be,” “Hard Times,” “Cover Girl,” “You’re Gonna Win”