Across 17 tracks that play like a film noir with a gumshoe detective on the case, or a whimsical fairytale, or a Charleston-fueled musical — RAYE’s new album, THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE., astral projects you to different planes where sound and raw storytelling score everyday life.
But, this album is more than a cinematic exploration of orchestra and pop; it’s an album of triumph, not giving up, and it’s a big “I told you so” to the music execs that tried to keep her in a box. The album in its entirety is like an aural shoulder to lean on. It makes you cry, it makes you feel not alone, and best of all, at least for me, it empowers the f*ck out of you.
For me, this entire album hit so close to home. This here blog just turned 18, and those of you who have been with my crew and me since the early days have seen the evolution. So many empowering songs by women have soundtracked my entire journey. From being a young woman in a male-dominated industry trying to set her footprint in music journalism to finally reaching success, learning to scale up and maintain that growth through motherhood, the COVID pandemic, political unrest, crimes against humanity, a devastating fire, and the constant change of technology (especially the battle against AI) — I have wanted to give up many times over. But honestly, music, whether through my work or just my everyday life, keeps me going (next to my daughter, of course). And RAYE is serving up a prescription I am happy to fill over and over again, with no side effects except for joy, hope, and a sense of NOT feeling alone.
I can’t tell you how many times I cried while listening to songs like “Life Boat.,” “I Will Overcome.,” “I Know You’re Hurting.,” and the epic orchestral peak of “Click Click Symphony.”
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RAYE has really created something special here. Aside from writing something so personal, like a look into her diary, she has also given us a guide for getting through tough times.
“Music is medicine, I’ve always said that,” shared RAYE. “I guess I’m in the process of making medicine for myself that I can share with the world. I want us all to say to ourselves that it’s going to be all right, and I’m going to have faith in the seeds that I’ve planted beneath the snow. I wanted to create something that is a hug, bed or soft place for that person who needs it.”
Even RAYE’s opening monologue plays like a fairytale, telling the story of “A Girl Under the Grey Cloud.” It has that old-Hollywood feel, with gorgeous strings that sound straight out of a classic Disney animation.
Songs like“I Will Overcome.” transport you to a rainy night on a dimly lit street, where a detective narrates the scene in what feels like a 1920s mystery radio show. RAYE mentioned in an interview that she wants to do the next James Bond theme song, and this song, this entire album, proves she is more than capable of delivering that striking, smoky soundtrack.
After the dramatics, the suspense, you get that feel-good dance banger about a f*ck boy.
“He’s not looking for a heart, just your pillow to rest his head.”
“Beware. The South London Lover Boy.” is the villain in this story. And wait till you hear RAYE’s evil cackle. The song begs for a hands-up -Charleston. It has that thrilling, sweaty, dance-floor energy of a classic juke joint vibe all over it. But it’s those slow and steady rhythmic snaps in “Beware. The South London Lover Boy” that get me. The latter part of the song takes a darker and very real turn, where all women should take heed. It’s about supporting women and keeping them safe from predators.
Then RAYE gives her lovelorn pop lovers a heavy dose of sing-along alt R&B with “The WhatsApp Shakespeare.,” about that one man we’ve all had in our lives. But the song doesn’t stay too long in that zone. RAYE sweeps you away into that big-band sound as the scene turns into a literal “romantic thriller.”

Each song on this album is full of drama, storytelling, and suspense. Not only do the arrangements of each track tell a story, but RAYE’s lyrics tell all. It’s truly exciting to listen; a real work of art crafted to make you feel something. It reflects the human condition. It’s not a bubble-gum pop factory ditty engineered to please the masses and get stuck in your head.
“Winter Woman” samples Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons (Winter).” And then there’s “Click Clack Symphony.,” featuring legendary composer Hans Zimmer. I already dedicated an entire long-form article to this song because it’s spectacular. And here’s why this song is so important and feels like the literal heartbeat of the album. With ‘Click Clack Symphony.’ RAYE has made her most important artistic leap yet, transforming from pop’s “puppet” into its auteur.
You see, there’s a well-worn arc in pop music, particularly for women. You get discovered, you get packaged, you get told what to record, what to wear, and what kind of song will land on the charts. If you’re talented enough and/or lucky enough, it works. You get the fans, the streams, the fame. And then, if you’re really brave and want to show you’re a true artist, you eventually get something rarer than all of it: control.
That’s the arc RAYE has been living, loudly and publicly. After years of being shelved and sidelined by Polydor Records, she reclaimed her career and released My 21st Century Blues on her own terms, and became one of the most talked-about artists in the world almost overnight.
But here’s the thing about artists who fight that hard for their freedom: they don’t spend it making the same record twice. “Click Clack Symphony.” is the sound of an artist using her freedom to go somewhere most pop stars never dare. And all of that ethos is echoed throughout the entirety of THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE.
RAYE delivers those empowering, anthemic ballads where her voice absolutely shines, in songs like “I Know You’re Hurting.,” with so much healing and gospel flair.
This is the kind of album that takes you to the club. Whether the jazz club with “I Hate the Way I Look Today.” or the EDM club with the cathartic “Life Boat.” But it’s also the kind of album that offers spiritual awakening. It’s that duality that makes the work all the more interesting, beautiful, and real. It’s deeply personal.
RAYE sampled both her Granddad and Grandma. Their encouraging words will seriously make you cry. The album also features RAYE’s sisters Amma and Absolutely, who is also a music artist, making for a loving, joyful family affair.
And if the collab with Hans Zimmer wasn’t jaw-dropping enough, RAYE’s other legendary collab is with Al Green. That iconic voice can be heard on “Goodbye Henry.” It makes your heart swoon, and the song is the perfect jam to feature such a voice.
THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE. is extraordinary. It’s exactly the kind of music people need to hear right now in such an uncertain climate of doom and gloom, where people’s livelihoods are at stake. For me, and I’m sure many others, it has served as a sort of lifeline, as a beacon of hope to not give up. And if it can deliver that messaging while making you smile, cry, dance, laugh — you know it has the power to heal.
RAYE’s new album is out now via Human Re Sources. Her sold-out North American tour begins March 31, followed by a special guest spot on the Bruno Mars tour.











