Doja Cat has always thrived in chaos. From the viral absurdity of “Mooo!” in 2018 to the sleek pop-rap dominance of “Say So” and “Kiss Me More,” she’s built a career out of mixing humor, charisma, and undeniable hooks. Even her most divisive work, 2023’s Scarlet, leaned into abrasive rap and confrontational imagery while still flashing moments of brilliance.
Her fifth and latest album, Vie, shifts gears entirely. Instead of courting controversy or chasing another viral spectacle, Doja reaches back to the past, building a record steeped in ‘80s pop textures and glossy synth lines. In an interview with Zane Lowe, Doja revealed that it was her first time working with producer Jack Antonoff for the album.
“[I’m] working with a person [such as Antonoff who’s] new in my life,” she told the radio host. “And so it’s the grappling with talking about something personal and creating something fresh, and then getting to know someone new, and then all of these things fell together really naturally.”
Across its fifteen tracks, she leans into shimmering production, reverb-heavy vocals, and big melodic swings that frame her as more of a classic pop frontwoman than a mischievous disruptor. Vie wants to be both a showcase of her versatility and a reminder that she can dominate a straightforward pop lane as easily as she can bend genres to her will. She’s also mentioned to Billboard that the album will be about “love,” “romance,” and “sex,” while spinning those concepts around with ‘80s-influenced soundscapes à la Giorgio Moroder and Eurythmics.
Pasticcio
Doja’s sassy presence still breaks through at times, especially on “AAAHH MEN!” and “Silly! Fun!,” where she leans into the playful eccentricity that has made her a viral force. Moments like “Run Amok” and “UFO” show glimpses of what she’s aiming for: bright, retro-tinged pop that’s more about mood than statement.
But those flashes are brief. The production nails the ‘80s aesthetic with its glittery synth riffs a bit too much, and in doing so it often leans on recycled sounds that drown out Doja’s witty personality. The washed-out, compressed drums in “Take Me Dancing,” for example, feel like an ‘80s pastiche that, aside from showcasing Doja’s rapping skills, does little to reinvent the wheel. “All Mine” leans on production tropes like rubbery basslines and sparkly synths, much like the album’s lead single “Jealous Type,” which risks pushing the latter into the background rather than sharpening Doja’s perspective.
Even when she taps into the sharp sarcasm and humor that fueled her rise, like in the track “Gorgeous” (After that wax, you thought you wanted to kill him / But now you walkin’ ’round like you one in a million”), the production smooths out the edges until the songs feel repetitive. We could’ve easily mistaken the opening of “Stranger,” with its snappy snares and boom-bap drum pads, for a Spotify ad. “Tap the banner to learn more!”
What Vie really lacks is a centerpiece, and that’s what makes the album frustrating. Doja has already proven she can juggle accessibility and experimentation: Planet Her saw her larger-than-life personality incorporated into spectacular worldbuilding, while Scarlet illustrated the range she is capable of as as a high-energy diva with a softer side. Vie gestures toward that balance, but hides behind an archetype.
Yet, Doja is too important a figure in contemporary pop to be dismissed outright, and Vie will still connect with fans who want familiar soundscapes. But for an artist who has built her reputation on unpredictability, this record feels small. It is not a total misstep, but it is an uninspired one — a glossy daydream that hasn’t figured out what its aspirations are. Doja has already shown she can rewrite the rules of pop. Vie makes you wish she had pushed harder to do it again.
