The Great Impersonator

Halsey‘s “The Great Impersonator” is 2024’s most unabashedly ambitious record by a major pop artist. It’s also the saddest, by about a country mile. One of the year’s best? Yes, that too.

There are no obvious radio hits, no sound bites that have taken TikTok by storm. But this is not an album designed to be a chart-topper; it’s a masterclass in the ways we use art to survive—which is to say, a masterclass in honesty.

‘The Great Impersonator’ is both deeply personal and sharply relevant to wider pop culture, quietly contributing to conversations being had by, and about, Chappell Roan, as well as those that have followed the death of Liam Payne.

With The Great Impersonator, Halsey deftly wields the enticements of pop, all the while exploring ageless issues regarding self, suffering, and the pursuit of wholeness.

Mining her musical upbringing and honoring her myriad inspirations, Halsey comes full circle, connecting her own youth and innocence with intimate adult ruminations on parenthood, aging, and legacy. It's an engrossing homage to the figures that made her into the artist -- and inspiration -- that she has become herself.

Even as the album underlines what Halsey has learned from others, it shows what sets her apart: her insistence on channeling intense pain through her songs.

The Great Impersonator is her rawest, darkest incarnation yet.

It perhaps didn’t have to be so lengthy, especially when it’s made dense by a surplus of delicate ballads that sound just a tad too similar. However, its concept, eloquence and even just its sheer emotional weight all serve to make this record special nonetheless, both for its quality and as a document of Halsey’s survival.

Often downtrodden but always sparkling with wit, The Great Impersonator is a morbidly earnest self-sendoff, written while staring down a quickly narrowing future.

Similarly to Manic, The Great Impersonator shines most when Halsey is unapologetically themselves.

While Halsey’s references are often obvious—the backing tracks to “Letter to God (1983” and “Panic Attack” are dead ringers for Bruce Springsteen’s “I’m on Fire” and Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams,” respectively—they rarely feel derivative. That’s due, in large part, to Halsey’s clear vision of both herself as an artist and The Great Impersonator as a concept album.

While there are moments of genuine honesty and emotional clarity, these are overshadowed by Halsey’s refusal to let the music breathe.