In Review: Becca Mancari - The Greatest Part

Rather than her sophomore album being a romping, stomping paroxysm of feminism, Mancari, with the help of Paramore alumni Zac Farro at the production helm, has issued a statement embellished with feminine charm and lustre.

Posted: 1 July 2020 Words: Meg Berridge

Becca Mancari is absolutely a female powerhouse. We knew it when she released her debut album Good Woman. We knew it when she joined Bermuda Triangle alongside Brittany Howard and Jesse Lafser. Now we can feel it can be felt stronger than ever with the release of her luxe second album, The Greatest Part. But rather than being a romping, stomping paroxysm of feminism, Mancari has issued a statement embellished with feminine charm and lustre.

As the first single from The Greatest Part (produced by Paramore alumni Zac Farro), 'Hunter' has gained quite the reputation. It seems almost obvious that it should be the album’s opener after it’s vigorous rounds on BBC Radio 6 Music. Thanks to them, Hunter now has the appeal of a worn-in pair of boots - it’s comfortable, it’s familiar, yet you just can’t seem to take them off. 'First Time' follows. The track tries to float in Mancari’s trademark dulcet tones, though the dejected motive of the lyrics hangs around its ankles. This is another case of a beautiful voice relaying a sombre story. The opening line, “I remember the first time my dad didn't hug me back” holds the heart and squeezes it tightly.

As it progresses, it becomes more and more apparent that The Greatest Part chronicles experiences of rejection in spirited and effervescent ditties and snappy repeated choruses. 'Like This', 'Bad Feeling' and 'Pretend' all tackle this inherently awful but commonplace human affair. “I don’t want to lose you again but I don’t know how to pretend,” she sings in a comparatively carefree way atop of flirtatious licks of guitar. 'Lonely Boy' is another of the album’s prior releases, favouring a gleeful giggle of guitar until its entirety melts down into a delightful foggy mess of echoes and reverb-laden vocals. It’s as if Mancari is elated to be on the flip-side.

Eventually, the catharsis takes place, beginning with 'Tear Us Apart'. Mancari switches up the buoyancy for the sensation of falling as the album plunges. 'I’m Sorry' is utterly heartbreaking; intense repetition of the chorus pinpoints the urgency of a dying relationship. 'Stay With Me' is a tear-jerker too. The Greatest Part winds to a close with 'Knew' and 'Forgiveness', the former a soft ballad of intertwining parts and lullaby vocals, meanwhile, there's an indescribable sense of honesty and allure to the raw and stripped back efforts of the latter.

In summation, The Greatest Part resembles the natural cycle of a relationship with a resolute ending of 'Forgiveness'. Does Becca Mancari need a hug? Undoubtedly. Do we need a hug now too? Certainly.