Quiet Quitting: Haim's Latest Album Exudes a Calm Confidence in Walking Away
It feels like no time at all since the California-born trio of sisters dropped their last album, Women In Music: Part III. Perhaps it's that pandemic time suck that's got us thinking it was only yesterday, or perhaps it's because the songs of WIMPIII (as it's referred to by the band) feel as timeless as summer itself; they roll around again on your Spotify shuffle to help you breathe a sigh of relief as warmer nights approach. It's this fondness for Haim's music that has got many excited for another "Haim Summer", one that was officially rang in last Friday with the release of their fourth studio album, I quit.
Fittingly, given its title, this record carries a breezy, quietly confident tone, while also being laced with traces of past hesitation. Sonically, it's the most self-assured the band has ever sounded, which mimics its theme of finally saying, "I'm through" with whatever isn't working for you. In keeping with this theme, the album opens with a literal call for your attention, delivered at mid-tempo by lead singer Danielle, before stating that this will be the last time she asks for it before she leaves. This opening lyric marks a moment for the band as they set the tone for what their position in the industry is these days. Despite it being half a decade since their last album release, they have been able to remain at the top of their game across their multiple disciplines. The trio are a constant source of fashion inspiration, often dressed by top luxury brands in complimentary fits; Alana continues her acting efforts following high praise for her debut in Paul Thomas Anderson's Licorice Pizza in 2021; the band also took to the stage to support their close friend Taylor Swift on part of the American leg of her world famous Eras Tour. On all accounts, they have been just as relevant in the past five years than when they're actively promoting their own albums. It's perhaps this success, or comfort in their own abilities, that have led them to reach this moment of composure and self love. A fitting response to the "man from the magazine" who featured on their last record; a song about their male counterparts doubting their skills and mocking their performance style.
In my opinion, 'Man From the Magazine' feels like a connecting song between WIMPII and I quit. While the latter can be described more as a breakup album than its predecessor, the songs on it have that signature frustration-mixed-with-apathy that 'Man From the Magazine' introduced us to. It's a feeling that many can relate to, but one that is also presented to us in a way that implies it's already been processed. Of course, there are other, quite obvious clues about the subject matter of I quit. This album marks the first in their discography that hasn't been produced by Ariel Rechtshaid, Danielle's former partner, indicating that the record is perhaps a postmortem of an almost decade-long relationship that she finally had to walk away from. Many fans also pointed out that despite not being down as a producer on the album, Rechtshaid is credited as a writer on lead single, 'Relationships' which the band have also claimed to have taken seven years to get right. The song, then, tinged with a sense of irony as it leads the charge for this new era.
'Relationships' spearheads an album full of sonic experimentation within the margins of what we know from Haim already. They mix R&B beats with twangy, classic-rock guitar, while referencing 90s songs such as 'Freedom! '90' by George Michael on their opening track and 'Numb' by U2 on their closing number. There are more standout songs to count on one hand and enough deeply vulnerable lyrics to give them real staying power as their fans experience all the same emotions over time. While I've seen other reviews claim this album is sometimes too indecisive and lyrically weak in parts, I say this is where it's strength lies. It's a portrait of processing something you've had to let go of. It represents the back-and-forth nature of second guessing while trying to stay true to yourself; a time that is most likely not a coherent one. The shortcomings in their writing is supported powerfully by the confidence in their production. While Haim are known for strutting with conviction down empty streets in Los Angeles, this record sonically suggests a more slow-moving departure, as if to not stir up anything they've already left behind. They're happy to disappear into the crowd now as they have the self-assurance to not get lost again.
Naturally, as always, we have a strong sense of sisterhood and community here. Songs such as 'The Farm' and 'Lucky Stars' depict being picked up by a support system in a time of need, which feel like a well-timed glimpse of hope amongst moments of critical introspection. Other songs focus more on the essential need to sit with your emotions despite a sense of confusion; both 'Try to feel my pain' and 'Cry' explore feeling profoundly sad while not knowing what the answers are. While much of the record dives deeply into a wide range of emotional subject matter, the overall sentiment is exactly what it says on the tin: to quit it and move on. It's probably best summed up by lyrics from penultimate track, 'Blood on the street': "And now the sun's up, I'm out and that's that." A fitting shrug and a toss of the hair to draw in the summer of Freedom! '25.
