Fousheé Redefines Herself with softCORE

Graphic by Cate Banks

By Parker Bennett

While her buzz has been quietly growing over the past few years, New Jersey artist Fousheé’s hype has unfortunately often been attributed to the collaborators she’s worked with, rather than the strength of her music itself. She blew up from rapper Sleepy Hallow’s viral interpolation of her song “Deep End,” and her recent Grammy nomination comes from her writing credits on partner Steve Lacy’s smash hit “Bad Habits.” This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it’s a frustrating experience to watch an incredibly talented artist receive mainstream recognition only when other (usually male) collaborators are involved. While her 2021 album time machine was a solid project that showcased exactly what Fousheé was capable of, softCORE feels like the cohesive body of work she deserves, and firmly stamps her one-of-a-kind sound on the current music scene with ubiquitous deftness. 

Instantly, the first thing that grabs your attention about the album is the clear distinction between its title and its sound. For the majority of softCORE, Fousheé is experimenting with raucous splashes of punk, hyper-pop, and – ironically – hardcore. These more aggressive portions are then juxtaposed with meditative moments of art-pop, indie-rock, and folk. The soundscape of this album whips from crashing guitar riffs and pounding drums to gentle acoustic strums and beautiful oceans of reverb, and Fousheé’s vocal performances are just as dynamic. At times, she’s screaming her head off (“bored”), others singing angelically (“unexplainable”), and even busting out a couple rap verses (“scream my name”). Across the board, her presence is charismatic, enigmatic, and wonderfully unpredictable, and it makes for a listening experience that feels like a sprawling world of Fousheé’s design that we are being granted the privilege of peering into.

Album opener “simmer down” kicks things off with a punk-inspired assault of drum and bass, accompanied by a looming wall of dark synth moods. Fousheé’s vocals on the track are half-yelled and unbound by constraints of tempo, allowing her to carve her own way through the back-beat. Like the best punk ballads, the rhyme scheme is archaic and easily chant-able, and the lyrical references to violence, independence, and promiscuity are instantly memorable. Fousheé’s vocal performance really sells the track, with the chorus standing out as the deliciously addictive highlight: (“Sim-ma-ma-ma-ma down, I know I don’t fuck around”). The track dovetails in a high energy guitar solo accented by Fousheé’s whistle-tone shrieks, and sidetracks briefly into a piano-driven ballad portion that feels reminiscent of Ziggy-era Bowie. It’s a captivating start to the album, and is an aggressive but thoroughly enjoyable introduction to the artistic range Fousheé embodies.

The comedown on “i’m fine” is nothing short of baffling, with Fousheé choosing to follow up her speaker-breaking opener with a gentle, guitar-driven folk song. Her singing here is ethereal, and her lyrics are a soft proclamation of being “fine”. Then, at about the thirty second mark, the song transforms into a three second breakdown of screeching guitars, banging drums, and a distorted voice screaming, “FIIIIINNNNE!” This interruption occurs twice more during the only ninety second song, and it transforms an otherwise meditative interlude into a charming piece of emotional storytelling. The distinction between Fousheé’s repeated reassurances and the screaming death-metal segments that reflect her mental state is one whose meaning is clear, but its execution is so well-done and honestly surprising that it makes for one of the most replayable moments on the album without a doubt.

The mood takes a sharp turn back onto the punk track with “bored”, which amps up the noise, aggression, and intensity of “simmer down” in incredible fashion. Lyrically, Fousheé is at her most brutal and delightfully violent: “I’m bored, how ‘bout a little torture? I’m BORRRRED”. Once again, her performance shines through and makes for the most memorable highlights of the track, including the outro’s divulgence into hyper-pop and the gorgeous melody Fousheé croons through mountains of auto-tune. 

Single “supernova” is another gentle interlude, which features Fousheé singing in a pitched-up falsetto, reminiscent of Tierra Whack or 645AR. The beat here is spacey and accented by trap snares, and the bassline is a steady groove that grounds Fousheé’s flurries of vocalics at a danceable center. “Spend the money” is a notable highlight for boasting the only feature on the album: rapper Lil Uzi Vert, whose recent output has flirted much more with pop-punk than the trap that put them on the map. Here, they continue that pop-punk evolution hand-in-hand with Fousheé, and the result is a moody, unpredictable banger. The vocal performances here are muttered and subdued, providing the perfect companion to the brooding beat that buries a flurry of percussion under an avalanche of glitchy low-end. Lyrically, both Uzi and Fousheé’s writing is a charming homage to the trappings of pop-punk’s angst, including references to skating, mental illness, and tumultuous relationships. Ultimately the song argues for a similarly juvenile lifestyle: encouraging teenage hedonism and for the listener to “spend that money up.”

“Die” is arguably the darkest moment on the tracklist, which sees Fousheé yelling over a sparse rock beat about tribulations of partying, drug abuse, and sexuality. Her assertions here are direct and aggressive, calling out an annoying partner, jealous haters, and a general assertion of her boss status. After the silly funk interlude of “simulation”, “unexplainable” sees her suddenly stepping into the world of art-pop: accompanied now by an orchestral pizzicato that she sings atop with evocative delicacy. It’s a beautiful moment, and showcases just how far Fousheé’s range can stretch. 

That range is further highlighted by the divergence into indie-pop on “smile” (my personal favorite). This song is a beautifully constructed bop that favors sensibilities much closer to Fousheé’s past releases. There’s a sense of longing that feels deeply present on the track, and allows the chorus to feel all the more heart-wrenching: “You give me one good reason to smile.” It’s an earnest and vulnerable declaration of love, and an undeniable highlight in an album full of wholly memorable moments. 

After two more hardcore bangers with “stupid bitch” and “scream my name”, the album comes to a close with “let u back in.” It’s a slow-burn of an outro that sees Fousheé beautifully baring her soul as she sings about loneliness, regret, and the urge to return to former lovers. After an album of such intense highs and lows, it feels like the perfect catharsis. 

There’s an anger in this outro (“bored”), but Fousheé’s tongue and cheek angst shines through (“spend the money”), and the entire thing is delivered in a tightly produced, emotionally provocative package (“smile”). As it comes to a close, softCORE is an incredible effort from Fousheé, and showcases her as not only a competent songwriter, performer, and musician, but also as an impressive visionary whose ability to construct a meaningful body of work is more than worthy of praise. For fans of pop-punk, indie-pop, R&B, and just general out-of-the-box greatness; Fousheé’s got you covered on this one.