Dua Lipa’s Future Nostalgia is the Album That Will Save Us

The pop prophet’s new record filled with retro-inspired dance tracks arrives just in time to keep the world moving, if only for 38 minutes

Who among us could have known that Dua Lipa was to become the pop star prophet of these modern times? After the British songstress gave the world her foolproof new rules for navigating singlehood, we should have taken notice of her philosophical prowess. Maybe then we could’ve heeded the warnings hidden in the first single off her sophomore album Future Nostalgia. “Don’t show up, don’t come out,” she sings on “Don’t Start Now.” Is it a disco-tinged kiss-off to an ex or another prediction from music’s new mentalist? Either way, with the entire world essentially quarantined due to the spread of COVID-19, Dua Lipa’s lyrics have taken on an eerie prudence.

Just five months ago, right before “Don’t Start Now” was released, the world was a much different place. There was no pandemic panic, the Democratic presidential race was still stacked, and Dua Lipa was the earnest pop singer with a couple of bonafide hits (and memes) under her belt. Her debut self-titled album had fallen short of the promise heard in some of the record’s promo singles, and though it was still successful, its sound and execution lacked the excitement produced by the singer’s gorgeously distinctive voice. That changed October 22nd when she tweeted out a mere ten-second video featuring her new single. From just a handful of seconds, it was clear that Dua Lipa was intent on coming for blood this time around. Writhing around in a neon, highlighter-yellow leotard, Dua was sporting a fresh haircut and an even fresher sound — clearly influenced by her recent dance collaborations with Mark Ronson and Calvin Harris. She posed one question to her millions of followers: “Miss me?”

It was an exciting start to an era that most pop musicians can only dream of these days. “Don’t Start Now,” was met with rave reviews, which Dua capitalized on with her first live performance of the song at 2019’s EMA awards. After her dance moves and stage presence became fodder for the 270-character crowd, Lipa was clearly intent on proving everyone wrong — and she did. The song’s funk breakdown in the second chorus saw Dua hitting each dance move perfectly choreographed to her skillset. Gone was the self-conscious pop singer and so emerged (and strutted) a self-assured pop star. All that was left to determine was if the rest of the new music was good enough to match this momentum.

As if she read our minds (and she may have), Dua released Future Nostalgia’s title track as a promotional single one month later. The track is the perfect intersection of funk, electro, and dance — arguably even better than the album’s lead single. “It’s all playful and fun and not taking ourselves too seriously,” Lipa tweeted when announcing its release. While it may be lighthearted, Dua’s delivery of lyrics like “my name’s on the tip of your tongue/keep runnin’ your mouth” and inventive references (like the one to architect John Lautner) make “Future Nostalgia” not only a standout, but a clear indicator that the full album was going to be something no one would have ever expected from Dua Lipa — which I suspect is exactly what she wanted.

The day after the promo single was released, I held a holiday party to celebrate the season with some of my favorite people in the world. “Future Nostalgia” was the first song we played that night. It was requested again by people who arrived later. I felt an electric comradery among my friends (a collection of gays and girls — all popheads) as we all talked about our excitement for the album, danced to its two available songs, and debated which one was better. I wish I would have known then that it would be the last party we would all gather at for a while, I would have asked everyone to stay just a little bit longer to revel in the moment.

But time hurtles forward, and so do album release schedules. After another month of keeping fans waiting impatiently for more, Dua announced that Future Nostalgia would be released April 2nd and that the second official single, “Physical,” was set to drop on the last day of January. With no idea what to expect other than supreme quality, Dua Lipa still managed to absolutely fucking shatter every expectation she had spent the last two months setting.

“Physical” is, unequivocally, the pop song of the year and one of the best of the decade — not an easy feat one month in. From the ominous opening bassline synths to the song’s very last triumphant breath, it’s a masterpiece. It’s the kind of song that’s not able to be replicated from album to album, the kind of tune every artist wishes was theirs. It has a pervasive, pulsing sense of darkness that lies beneath it; it’s a song about wanting to spend one incredible night with a lover that sounds more like pleading desperation: “hold on, just a little tighter,” Dua growls on the bridge, her rasping soprano nearly threatening to betray her, “baby keep on dancing, let’s get physical!” Dancing is not a request, it’s a demand. And without it, it’s all going to fall apart — and fast.

Mystifying how she was right about that too. Here we are, most of us a couple of weeks into self-isolation, constantly looking for new things to preoccupy our minds to keep us from spiraling into a black hole of pandemic-induced anxiety. Cue Future Nostalgia, rush-released one week early likely due to both an unfortunate online leak and the Coronavirus uncertainty. If “keep on dancing like you ain’t got a choice” was the plea in “Physical,” consider it Future Nostalgia’s mission statement.

The album could not have dropped at a better time. These songs implore you not only to dance but to transport yourself completely to the club floor that lies in the comfort of your own home. Dua’s auditory discotheque is a funk-laden, vibrantly-hued new realm where the outside world doesn’t exist for 38 glorious minutes. It’s simply impossible not to give in when a song like “Levitating” comes on. Handclaps and retro guitars explode into a singalong chorus complete with vocoder backing vocals that are going to make bands Chromeo and Daft Punk furious that they didn’t release this song first. By the time the swirling bridge hits you will, in fact, feel lighter than air.

On “Pretty Please,” Dua keeps the bass-heavy funk flowing into a slicker than ice appeal to her partner to put her mind at ease. It’s a soft yet thumping laid back jam with a sweet payoff in the form of a chopped and screwed breakdown complete with cowbell and perfectly placed vocal distortions. The party ramps up once more on “Hallucinate,” the perfect mix between Fever/Light Years Kylie Minogue and Confessions-era Madonna. The verses flutter with hidden strings and low synths but they exist simply to set up a euphoric, whirling chorus that’s as astonishing as it is dizzying.

The comedown from the high, “Love Again,” samples the 90’s Britpop hit “Your Woman” by White Town. It seems more like an homage than a sample — Dua is clearly flexing her knowledge of the references that have influenced her music up to this point. Over frenetic strings and guitars, Dua laments “goddamn…you’ve got me in love again.” It’s the same disbelief one could feel listening to a pop album so lushly produced that it can’t help but overtake you entirely. The same shock is felt on “Cool” as Dua flexes her ultrachic personality over Phil Collins-esque drum breaks and synths that manage to feel reminiscent of both the 80s and 90s while still feeling positioned firmly in the now.

Future Nostalgia’s only low points are the closing two tracks: “Good in Bed” and “Boys Will Be Boys.” With titles like those, and after nine tracks that are nothing short of pop perfection, the pairing threatens to leave a sour taste in your mouth after the album ends. Removed from the album’s run they’re much more listenable, but one must wonder why she would scrap a leaked collaboration with Normani that sounded much more in sync with the rest of the album to include these songs. Still, it’s incredibly admirable that the record is entirely free of features — something almost unheard of in this age of pop music. Dua Lipa surely knew that she wanted this project to be entirely her vision and that’s a bold enough statement to excuse two less than perfect tracks.

From the moment the Future Nostalgia era began up until the album’s release, Dua Lipa has had her stiletto heel (or perhaps 90s-era platform pump) on our necks. With a vision and sound so singular, she managed to have what few pop artists can get in 2020 — a flawless and cohesive album rollout. From the album’s gorgeous artwork and promotional imagery shot by Hugo Comte to the perfectly-spaced three singles to the three music videos that all feel like sisters to each other, every piece fits together immaculately. It’s obvious that from this moment on, Dua Lipa is an artist to contend with. Future Nostalgia is the first great pop album of the new decade.

Maybe that’s exactly what she intended. After all, the 2020s are off to a disastrous start. We need joyous, entrancing pop music more than ever before. Is it just a coincidence that an album titled Future Nostalgia dropped at the height of a pandemic? The nostalgia for what we thought the future would be like just a few months ago is more pervasive than ever now that we’re stuck inside looking for anything to bring us joy. So why shouldn’t we give ourselves to this music? Dua Lipa’s sophomore album is the perfect package of songs to carry us over into whatever comes next. It will keep us dancing long after this is all over. We’ll play it at our belated birthday parties and when it’s safe to gather again at clubs and parks. Future Nostalgia is the opus that’s here for us both now and when we’re on the other side. In the meantime, we will follow the scripture given to us by pop’s clairvoyant queen: “keep on dancing.”