Rosé’s Debut Album Is an Inviting, Disarming Listen

Rosé gets down to brass tacks at the outset of Rosie, her solo full-length debut: “Tell me that I’m special/ Tell me I look pretty,” the Blackpink member asks as the piano chords that open “Number One Girl” rise and fall, fueling the intensity of her request. As one-fourth of K-pop’s biggest girlband and an affiliate of big-name brands like Tiffany and Saint Laurent, Rosé has, no doubt, been bestowed with these superlatives, and more, by scores of people. But Rosie is no imperial-phase victory lap from a haughty A-lister. Instead, it’s an appealing showcase of Rosé’s chameleonic personality and straightforwardly winsome vocals.

In the album’s liner notes, Rosé thanks Bruno Mars, her foil on the punchy lead single “APT.” who, she writes, was “guiding [her] through this chapter of [her] career.” The versatile, always-all-in Mars is a worthy lodestar for Rosé and Rosie, an album that whirls through 21^st-century pop idioms with aplomb even as its heroine ruminates on heartache and anxiety. 

Rosé executive-produced Rosie and co-wrote each of its 12 tracks, a sign of her versatility and pop savvy. “Two Years” is a luminous synth-pop cut that seethes over lost time, its shout-along backing vocals making plain the rage Rosé only hints at with her measured vocal. The ex lament “Gameboy” balances on an acoustic-guitar loop in a way that recalls early-‘00s pop&B, with Rosé summoning her last thread of strength as she sighs over years spent with a player who’ll “only ever be a heartbreak.” On the sparkling “Not The Same,” Rosé’s voice resonates like a crystal bell as she kicks a transgressing partner to the curb, charging into its upper register on a boiling-point bridge — ” I keep on walking through all of the memories that I had with you/ And I don’t miss it/The way you broke my love,” she hisses, her voice breaking as her accusation comes into full view. And “Stay a Little Longer” is a torchy plea for connection that glitters like a mirror ball. 

Despite all its angst, Rosie has a lightness that makes it an inviting listen. She’s disarmingly honest about any insecurities lurking within, but they’re packaged in charming songs that, at times, have flourishes signaling the fun Rosé had while figuring out her pop purpose: the eye-rolled aside “Ladies and gentlemen, the ex” on the doomed-relationship anthem “Toxic Till the End,” the jittery 2-step beat that adds heart flutters to the crush story “Drinks and Coffee.” Touches like that indicate a confidence that could result in top-notch pop music — and Rosie more than fulfills that promise because of its solid songwriting and the captivating woman at the album’s center.