With her first two albums, particularly 2022’s Painless, Nilüfer Yanya created an immersive, moody vibe and delivered some of the most irresistible guitar pop this side of Porches. Yanya levels up on both counts on her third studio album, My Method Actor, and intensifies her songwriting game to boot.
The album’s guitar work, courtesy of collaborator Wilma Archer, deals in extremes more so than on Yanya’s previous releases, contrasting naturalistic acoustic licks with splayed-out electric fuzz to maximal effect on tracks like “Like I Say (Runaway).” The guitar playing isn’t overly technical, but Archer and Yanya land on grooves that scratch an almost indescribable emotional itch, as on “Binding,” a devastating song about addiction.
Like Yanya’s past work, My Method Actor is predominantly minor key and melancholic in tone. The lyrics reinforce a lack of personal fulfillment and a search for satisfaction, both internally and interpersonally. “You’re never gonna find me,” Yanya warns on “Made Out of Memory.”
Canny shifts in perspective abound. At times, Yanya drifts from first to third person over the course of one song, animating the conflict between self-empowerment and self-doubt on tracks like “Call It Love.” And on “Just a Western,” she says one thing only to arrive at a new, contradictory conclusion as the song wears on.
Throughout, Yanya battles ideas of what she thinks she wants with what her behaviors actually demonstrate. She watches herself do a dance for an unappreciative partner whose approval she’s nonetheless seeking on “Keep on Dancing,” and her sense of self-disappointment is palpable: “Swim deep in the hive I came here to ignore.”
Even the subtle difference between the album’s title and the song “Method Actor” highlights the fact that the person making pretend could be a part of herself or someone else “comin’ around like a washed-out cartoon.” Which is to say, Yanya gives us specificity rather than just pointing to broad, sweeping emotions.
Many of the songs on My Method Actor allow ample space for instrumental sections, evidenced by the spacious, wordless tail-ends of tracks like “Mutations.” The album’s holistic sound is further fleshed out by the serrated, kazoo-like synth that’s featured not once but twice on “Call It Love,” and the string interludes on “Ready for Sun (Touch)” and “Faith’s Late.” The swells on the latter may test one’s patience, but they end up feeling necessary to the sonic world Yanya has offered, and a part of her mission to make the diffuse anthemic and the morose magisterial.
Since 2001, we've brought you uncompromising, candid takes on the world of film, music, television, video games, theater, and more. Independently owned and operated publications like Slant have been hit hard in recent years, but we’re committed to keeping our content free and accessible—meaning no paywalls or fees.
If you like what we do, please consider subscribing to our Patreon or making a donation.
