Album Review: Honey Water by Girlfriend

On her full-length debut studio album, Girlfriend keeps lighting the same match and wondering why her fingers burn. Her songs revolve around staying when you should leave.

Courtesy of Encore Recordings.

There’s a particular kind of phone call that happens late at night. You know better, and you make it anyway. The person on the other end knows better too, but they pick up. Both of you pretend there’s a reason besides the obvious one. Kenya Edwards, the Mississippi-born singer who records as Girlfriend, has built Honey Water around that call and everything that comes after. She dropped the It’s Complicated EP last spring, followed it with “Sticky Situation” and “Deep” through the fall, and now delivers a full album about the same bad decisions made over and over again. She works with a wide range of producers from Kenneth “KP” Paige to Malik Ninety Five to Mike Baretz.

The drunk-dial opener sets the terms immediately. She admits she was drunk when she called, admits she says the wrong thing too often, then asks if they can toast to her flaws anyway. On “Father Time,” she compares herself to toast getting “rough round the edges” and spells out L-O-V-E in the outro like passing notes in class, but she also tells you where the skeletons are, and it’s stashed in the backpack of her closet. She’s not confessing. She’s buying time. That same energy runs through “Deep,” where she calls herself out for quitting first, then circles back to miss the FaceTime calls and the wasted nights. “Too deep underwater and I can’t breathe,” she sings, fully aware she swam there herself.

The sharpest moments come when she stops pretending she doesn’t see where things are headed. She names his favorite time to call on “Sticky Situation” (PM) and admits she knows exactly how this ends, then tells him to slide through anyway. The hook asks “what is love” like a real question, and the verses answer with convenience and pleasure that outweighs shame. That same reach for escape runs through “Your Love” and “Sideways,” where she begs to be taken away and promises loyalty inside four walls, but the intoxication language gets its sharpest expression on smooth and bouncy “OG,” where she offers herself up like weed to be smoked. Then grief cuts through. She mentions hearing his mother scream, dedicates bars to her brother Craig and Auntie Gigi. The high wears off when you’re paying attention to what she’s actually saying.

The arguments on Honey Water feel almost choreographed, the same fights running past their expiration dates. The clock creeps toward midnight on “Touch & Go” (nine, ten, eleven, twelve) while she complains he never gives her credit, calls him an actor, admits she had to edit herself just to hold onto some dignity. She tries to claim territory on “Blank Space,” accusing him of taking up too much room, but she’s still holding the keys and still having the conversation. Both songs want to win more than they want to tell the truth. While she showcases some nice vocals here, it doesn’t do much to separate her from the others in terms of style, but she can hold her own.

Humiliation doesn’t need a better dress, and “Everybody But Me” refuses to give it one. With the piano-driven, bassy upbeat sound, the verses bring receipts, from the keys to her first place she shouldn’t have handed over to the sex she wishes she’d skipped to her mama’s warning that what you allow in the beginning is what you deal with later. Whether the hook itself holds up for repeat listens is less certain. It makes its case and moves on. “Higher” finds her asking for peace, for drama to leave, for her parents to stay out the way. She calls her family “disbanded” and the outside world “chaos.” She’s not promising to change anything. She’s asking for a break from the mess she built and still lives in.

Girlfriend documents the cycle without pretending it’s pretty. She narrates her own bad decisions with the clarity of someone who’s made them enough times to know what comes next. The back half blurs, and a couple hooks don’t stand out as much as they should, but the best moments shine the brightest. The lyrical honesty and vocal intimacy carry Honey Water past its weaker stretches. She commits to the mess without romanticizing it, which is harder than it sounds.

Solid (★★★½☆)

Favorite Track(s): “Father Time,” “Touch & Go,” “Everybody But Me”