It’s seemingly that time of year. 

The time of year when if someone so much as whispers at me that they think I could pull off short hair, I’d cut myself some bangs in my apartment bathroom. I am almost 100% sure I’d regret this decision the second I set the scissors down on the counter. This happens every spring.

Maggie Rogers’ new album “Don’t Forget Me,”  released on April 12, encapsulates this feeling, and all others that I associate with spring, perfectly.

Rogers was discovered by producer Pharrell Williams during a class for her master’s degree at the New York University Tisch School of The Arts. From there, her career has lept into action and she’s released two independent albums and three studio albums.

The first track on this album that stood out to me was “Never Going Home.” The music is upbeat, taking over my limbs and forcing me to tap my leg along to the melody. The song is an interesting thematic mix of being too much for a person and wanting them to realize what they lost.

The lyric “I can’t behave / but I don’t want to be alone” speaks to Rogers’ fear of scaring someone off but not wanting to censor herself. She’s screaming at her listeners to not limit themselves in order to impress others; this is her cry to take up space.

There is only one way I can sum up this song, and that’s that it slays. If you listen to one song on this album, I beg that you choose “Never Going Home.”

“The Kill” is hands down the sexiest song on the album. It’s something about the baseline, something about the intensity, something about the lyrics. 

The relatability is introduced when you realize the song is about falling for someone who pursued you first. It then deals with the heartbreak of them no longer being interested after you’ve let your guard down.

The overall theme of the album is Rogers realizing she may take up too much space in a relationship but overcoming these feelings regardless. Confronting adulthood is scary, but Rogers does it in 10 songs.

This album is drowning in girlhood: falling in love, being left by those closest to you, parties thrown by your friends, worrying you’re too much and worrying you’re not enough. That’s obvious in “If Now Was Then.”

“If Now Was Then” focuses on reflecting on the moments Rogers held her tongue. She explores what she may have done in a relationship if she hadn’t been scared to express herself and her feelings:

“But if now was then /  I would get out of my head / I would touch your chest / I would break the bed / I would say the things that I never said.”

The album ends with the title track: “Don’t Forget Me.” 

This ballad brings forth fear that as the world keeps spinning, she’ll be left behind. She begs us to not forget her when it’s time to move on, for her friends not to forget her as they get married and for herself to not leave her childhood at the doorstep of being an adult.

The complexity is ramped up by the addition of a love interest. In this song, Rogers seems to accept the fact that she is the detour people take before finding their life partner. She begs anyone who is listening to “love me ‘til your next somebody / Oh, but promise me that when it’s time to leave / Don’t forget me.”

All she yearns for is either “A good lover or someone that’s nice to me.”

She’s already prepared herself for when they leave her alone. 

I’m not typically a fan of title tracks, but this one perfectly encompasses the aesthetic of the album: twisted nostalgia in the face of adulthood. Her friends are growing up, Rogers is about to enter a new decade of her life and she’s attempting to grasp onto childhood with both hands. 

I too seem to cling to my memories with white-knuckled fists, and maybe that’s why I enjoyed this album so much. Regardless, Rogers’ eloquent lyrics and rollercoaster of headspaces make for an interesting album with a relatable undertone. 

Edited by Alex Goldstein | agoldstein@theamaneater.com

Copy edited by Katie Hoffman and Sterling Sewell | ssewell@themaneater.com 

Edited by Emily Skidmore | eskidmore@themaneater.com