Thanks to Taylor Swift’s ever-increasing monopoly on the subject, if there’s anyone who flies increasingly under the radar for writing and singing about love/breakups apart from Jennifer Lopez, it’s Ariana Grande. With her 2019 album, thank u, next, she reminded listeners of her premier status as a pop singer who serves as “an expert” on love—both falling in and out of it. With 2020’s Positions, Grande stumbled just a little bit as she ostensibly struggled to strike the perfect balance between the newly-minted “lockdown pop” genre and maintaining the sound and style that people had grown accustomed to with both Sweetener and thank u, next. On her seventh album, Eternal Sunshine, Grande (from the wreckage of divorce) marries the auditory and lyrical elements of her three previous records, adding just a dash of “Glinda whimsy” into the mix (indeed, it’s quite obvious that her time filming a musical like Wicked had an effect on her vocal and sonic stylings—sort of like it did on Madonna with Evita).
Most essential to the album, however, is the running theme that centers around Michel Gondry’s 2004 film, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (written by none other than Charlie Kaufman). In terms of titles being continuously repurposed with each new generation that’s inspired by them, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was itself taken from a line in Alexander Pope’s 1717 poem, “Eloisa to Abelard.” On that note, Grande could have just as well made this a double album, with one side titled Ariana to Dalton and Ariana to Ethan. Instead, she chooses to “let listeners decide” between what’s real and what’s fabricated/embellished on the record. In other words, she’s not one to confess which parts were pulled from fiction and which from reality. As she told Zane Lowe during her Apple Music interview for the album, “You can pull from your truth, you can pull from a concept, you can pull from a film, from a story you’re telling, from a story about a relationship that your friend told you [this being a version of what Taylor Swift did for “You Belong With Me”]. From, you know, art is really…it can come from anywhere.” A very evasive answer, even if a true one (and also, try telling that to plagiarism fundamentalists). In Grande’s case, Gondry’s film serves as the “lovely costume” she wears to tell the story on this record. One that commences with “intro (end of the world).”
It is, thus, right out the gate that one can feel the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind influence, being that Montauk is famously known as “The End of the World” due to its geographical location at the tip of Long Island, complete with craggy cliffs that are ripe for jumping from. Less romantically, though, it’s also sometimes referred to as “The Last Resort”—that is, the last option on Long Island once you get to it (unless you plan on turning right back around). This is the nickname that perhaps more closely applies to some of what Grande endured during her brief marriage to Dalton Gomez before causing a stir with her Ethan Slater dalliance. So it is that the first line she provides on Eternal Sunshine is the question: “Uh/How can I tell if I’m in the right relationship?/Aren’t you really supposed to know that shit?/Feel it in your bones and own that shit?/I don’t know/Then I had this interaction/I’ve been thinking ‘bout for like five weeks/Wonder if he’s thinking ‘bout it too and smiling/Wonder if he knows that that’s been what’s inspiring me/Wonder if he’s judging me like I am right now.”
Those versed in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind can immediately hear that, more than talking about herself and Slater, Grande is talking about Clementine Kruczynski (Kate Winslet) and Joel Barish (Jim Carrey). The “interaction” in question easily speaking to both the first actual time Clementine and Joel met and the time they meet by “happenstance” on a train to Montauk (and also the train back from it) after their memories of one another have been erased. Concluding the intro with a verse that highlights the album’s key image, “sunshine,” Grande croons, “If the sun refused to shine/Baby, would I still be your lover?/Would you want me there?/If the moon went dark tonight/And if it all ended tomorrow/Would I be the one on your mind, your mind, your mind?/And if it all ended tomorrow/Would you be the one on mine?” (Way to channel Lana Del Rey’s choir confusing “mine” with “mind” on “The Grants.”)
Starting and ending that intro with a question should give listeners plenty of insight into her cryptic “Caterpillar-meet-the-Cheshire-Cat from Alice in Wonderland” mood. But the answer to whether Dalton Gomez would be on her mind if it all ended tomorrow is an overt no based on the second track, “bye” (much more final sounding than k bye for now). A seeming lyrical homage to Ariana favorite *NSYNC (how dare she support Justin after Britney’s memoir unveilings though) and their 2000 hit, “Bye Bye Bye,” as well as Beyoncé’s 2016 bop, “Sorry,” during which she illustriously urges, “Tell him, ‘Boy bye.’” Grande turns that into, “Bye-bye/Boy, bye/Bye-bye/It’s over, it’s over, oh yeah/Bye-bye/I’m taking what’s mine.” And what’s “hers,” in this scenario, is her mind, heart and soul (a concept that tracks based on Grande’s ethereal, hippie-dippy nature). Besides, as she points out, “This ain’t the first time/I’ve been hostage to these tears [a double allusion to “no tears left to cry” and the event that inspired it: the Manchester Arena bombing]/I can’t believe I’m finally moving through my fears/At least I know how hard we tried, both you and me/Didn’t we?/Didn’t we?” In keeping with the thank u, next precedent of peppering her friends on the album, she then references one of her besties, Courtney Chipolone, in the pre-chorus, “So I grab my stuff/Courtney just pulled up in the driveway/It’s time.”
And yet, even though she can acknowledge “it’s time,” her hesitation is tantamount to Ross Geller’s (David Schwimmer) not wanting to be divorced three times. And, considering Grande once announced, “One day I’ll walk down the aisle…/Only wanna do it once, real bad/Gon’ make that shit last,” it’s no wonder she has a hint of “Geller Syndrome.” Because, turns out, Grande fell prey to being a Hollywood cliche all too soon. Thus, the song “don’t wanna break up again” (a contrast to “break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored”). Which speaks so savagely of her marriage to Gomez that she refers to it as a “situationship,” as in: “This situationship has to end/But I just can’t refuse/I don’t wanna break up again, baby.” One might interpret as her trying to break things off with Slater before the media or anyone else finds out, but the Gomez allusions are clear in verses like, “I made it so easy/Spent so much on therapy/Blamed my own codependency/But you didn’t even try/When you finally did, it was at the wrong time.”
Elsewhere, she goes back to her self-love motif (the one most clearly established on “thank u, next”) with the pronouncement, “Won’t abandon me again for you and I.” A slight Beyoncé nod (from yet another Lemonade track, “Don’t Hurt Yourself”) also comes again in the form of: “I’m to much for you/So I really gotta do/The thing I don’t wanna do.” And that is: break the fuck up in favor of a Munchkin. But, one supposes she’s been kinder about the break up in her lyrics than, say, Miley Cyrus (with singles like “Slide Away” and “Flowers”) as she waxes poetically, “Just one kiss goodbye/With tears in our eyes/Hope you won’t regret me/Hope you’ll still think fondly of our little life.” This, too, is kinder than what Clementine might say to Joel on the matter.
On that note, the next interlude on the record (because “intro [end of the world]” kind of counts as one, too), “Saturn Returns Interlude” (or what No Doubt would call Return of Saturn), is reminiscent of the voicemail left by Grande’s friend and tour director Doug Middlebrook just before leading into “in my head” on thank u, next. This time, it’s astrologer Diana Garland giving the wake-up call. Using these snippets of other people’s words, in both cases, serves as Grande’s way of processing the end of a relationship, de facto the end of an era. And how she will proceed into a new one with a more “awake” state of mind. In truth, “Saturn Returns Interlude” is less homage to the dreamy state of losing one’s memory as presented in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind than it is an homage to the dreamy state Dorothy Gale (Judy Garland) exists in upon entering the Land of Oz (because, yeah, Wicked is all over this record as well). Eventually, though, Dorothy wakes up from her literal dream. With no need of listening to the surreal astrological counsel of Garland as she explains, When we’re all born, Saturn’s somewhere/And the Saturn cycle takes around about twenty-nine years/That’s when we gotta wake up and smell the coffee/Because if we’ve just been sort of relying on our cleverness Or relying,you know, just kind of floating along/Saturn comes along and hits you over the head/Hits you over the head, hits you over the head, and says, ‘Wake up’/It’s time for you to get real about life and sort out who you really are.”
Her words than become warped and echo-y as the interlude ends with, “Wake up. Get real” before leading into the eponymous “Eternal Sunshine.” A song that seems to shed light on what happens after the twenty-ninth year, when that “Saturn smackdown” hits, particularly if you’re Adele or Ariana—because, indeed, Grande is giving us her pithy divorce album the same way Adele did back in 2021 with 30 (released, trickily, when she was thirty-three). Or Madonna with 1989’s Like A Prayer, for that matter (released when she was thirty years old, so yeah, the return of Saturn theory tracks on monumental personal growth shifts that lead to inevitable relationship schisms).
Once again produced by Max Martin (along with Shintaro Yasuda and DaviDior), the R&B-infused sound remains something of a surprise coming from the “auteur producer,” better known for his deftness at crafting more pop-oriented melodies. Even so, he seems at home in Grande’s genre landscape, which patently favors house and R&B throughout. Opening with the lines, “I don’t care what people say, we both know I couldn’t change you,” Middlebrook’s aforementioned warning comes to mind: “Here’s the thing: you’re in love with a version of a person that you’ve created in your head, that you are trying to but cannot fix. The only thing you can fix is yourself.” And even that’s often too tall of an order sometimes. Still, Grande keeps expressing the desire to try. Though that can come in unexpected ways—like wanting to “wipe her mind” of the memories of Gomez. Another interesting tidbit presented in the song is the idea that perhaps Gomez was stepping out on Grande long before she did on him, this being alluded to in the lyrics, “Hope you feel alright when you’re with her/I found a good boy and he’s on my side.” This latest “good boy” (which makes Ethan Slater seem decidedly canine…in addition to his already-present associations of being Munckin-like and kind of gay), however, might end up eventually being branded as her “eternal sunshine.” Because when Grande says, “You’re just my eternal sunshine,” it isn’t exactly a compliment, so much as a declaration that this is now a person (read: man) she wants to forget ever existed for her own self-preservation.
Although delivered in an expectedly “chirpy” way, there’s an air of resentment in Grande’s lyrics, including, “I showed you all my demons, all my lies/Yet you played me like Atari.” After name-checking that “vintage” video game, it’s entirely possible the company could release a limited-edition “Ari Atari” (for optimal “brand synergy”)—but if Monopoly didn’t capitalize on “monopoly,” then probably not. As for the use of that brand as an actual word, it translates to mean “to hit a target” in Japanese. And Grande was very much “hit” by her marriage to Gomez, as much as she was “hit” by Cupid’s arrow when it came to Slater. This being the presumed theme of “supernatural” (incidentally, Madonna has a song titled this that was written during/for her own divorce album, Like A Prayer, and it now appears on the thirtieth anniversary edition of it).
Switching to a more ebullient state of mind, Grande sings, “It’s like supernatural/This love’s possessin’ me, but I don’t mind at all/It’s like supernatural/It’s takin’ over me, don’t wanna fight the fall/It’s like supernatural.” Unfortunately, she can’t see fit to stop there, continuing, “Need your hands all up on my body/Like the moon needs thе stars/Nothin’ еlse felt this way inside me/Boy, let’s go too far [this extending into breaking up a marriage]/I want you to come claim it, I do/What are you waiting for?/Yeah, I want you to name it, I do/Want you to make it yours.” It might be “sweet” were it not for the image of Slater, among other things, claiming and naming Grande’s pussy.
Perhaps sensing she’s gotten too personal, Grande then transitions into the more playful, more nebulous “true story”—the song she joked to Zane Lowe is “an untrue story based on all untrue events” (to reiterate, she’s in her “Caterpillar-meet-the-Cheshire-Cat from Alice in Wonderland” mood). To heighten that sense of playfulness, Martin provides Grande with something resembling a near-parody of a 90s R&B beat—making “true story” an ideal amuse-bouche before “the boy is mine.” Seeming to address, once more, the scandal she caused over her relationship with Slater, Grande asserts, “I’ll play the villain if you need me to [how very Lisa from Girl, Interrupted]/I know how this goes, yeah/I’ll be the one you pay to see, play thе scene/Roll the camеras, please.” These lyrics regarding acting out scenes not only appearing yet again after she sang (of Gomez), “So now we play separate scenes” on “eternal sunshine,” but also playing into the dual idea that she’s reenacting Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for her own art and living her life in a fishbowl wherein, eventually, it has to be asked how much one is performing for the omnipresent cameras. That conditioning that comes with being expected to be always “on” (even when one is as open about mental health as Grande).
The caricature of 90s R&B then continues on “the boy is mine,” which is something like a follow-up to an unreleased Grande track called “fantasize” (side note: on “true story,” Grande deliberately wields that word in the line, “This is a true story about all the lies/You fantasize/‘Bout you and I.” The song (intended as a girl group parody for a TV show [could it have been Girls 5eva?]) offers more lyrical variations on NSYNC’s “Bye Bye Bye” with the lines, “I won’t keep waiting/I’m out the door/Bye, bye, bye.” On “the boy is mine,” however, Grande is choosing to remain all in. Doubling down on her avowal that the boy is hers, Grande claims, “I don’t wanna cause no scene/I’m usually so unproblematic/So independent.” Surely she’s being sardonic in the same way as Truman Capote (Tom Hollander) is by telling Babe Paley (Naomi Watts) in Capote vs. The Swans, “I’m famous for my discretion.” Whether or not she’s joking, Grande wants listeners to know that she’s just giving the “bad girl anthem” fans want as opposed to acknowledging anew her Slater/homewrecker controversy. That said, Grande is certain to sound her most Brandy-esque (the same way she does for most of the Positions album) as she sings, “Somethin’ about him is made for somebody like me/Baby, come over, come over/And God knows I’m tryin’, but there’s just no use in denying/The boy is mine.”
Soon, the lyrics become rather reminiscent of “break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored” (both lyrically and sonically, even though it’s supposed to “interpolate” the original Brandy and Monica version). This most apparent in braggadocious projections such as, “I can’t wait to try him/Le-let’s get intertwined/The stars, they aligned/The boy is minе/Watch me take my time.” As though to say, “It’s only a matter of” before she gets her object of desire. Or, as Madonna-channeling-Breathless Mahoney said on “Sooner or Later,” “Sooner or later there’s nowhere to hide/Baby, it’s time, so why waste it in chatter?/Let’s settle the matter/Baby, you’re mine on a platter I always get my man” and “If you’re on my list, it’s just a question of when.”
And, even if that man on her list happens to be “taken,” Grande has the (im)perfect response for her detractors by way of “yes, and?”—the latest song to join the ranks of the “clapback at the critics” genre. What’s more, its video, too, pays tribute to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind by way of indicating that the “art space” (a.k.a. warehouse-looking joint) she’s performing in is in Montauk. But when she demands of her critics with arrogant confidence, “Why do you care so much/Whose dick I ride?” she fails to take into account that many might care for the simple purpose of avoiding STDs.
The upbeat defiance of “yes, and?” is subsequently contrasted by “we can’t be friends (wait for your love),” the second single from Eternal Sunshine. As she gives her best imitation of Robyn on Body Talk (courtesy of Martin and ILYA being extremely well-versed in such Swedish-helmed Europop), Grande paints the bittersweet portrait of a woman who is a clear believer in the message of When Harry Met Sally. And, once more, it’s a song that can double as a depiction of her relationship dynamics with both Gomez and Slater. For it’s a track that’s capable of speaking to not wanting to be friends with an ex (let alone an ex-husband) and not wanting to stay in the friend zone at the outset of a dynamic. Thus, “We can’t be friends/But I’d like to just pretend/You cling to your papers and pens/Wait until you like me again.” And while the part about “clinging to papers and pens” sounds like a decided real estate agent dig and/or reference to divorce papers, there’s also an element that gives a nod to Grande not wanting to pretend that she didn’t feel attracted to Slater despite the taboo (in every way) nature of such a yearning.
The jury seems to lean more toward “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)” being about Gomez, if the transition into “i wish i hated you” is anything to go by. Reverting to the dreamy-sounding aura listeners heard on “Saturn Returns Interlude” and “eternal sunshine,” the melancholic tone is the most “divorce-y context” of the album. As such, Grande commences it with the verse, “Hung all my clothes in the closet you made/Your shoes still in boxes, I send them your way/Hoping life brings you no new pain.” Then, for the coup de grace of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind references, Grande says, “I rearrange my memories/I try to rewrite our life.” Mostly, by trying to delude herself into thinking it never happened. Because, like Don Draper said, “It will shock you how much this never happened.” Memory’s funny like that, a tool for self-preservation as much as it is self-harm. As the most musically sparse song on the record (thanks to production help from ILYA) it stands out as a “little gem” in the vein of “pov” from Positions.
In fact, the entire end of the album has that “little gem” feel, changing sonic tack as well on “imperfect for you” (a personal favorite of Grande’s). As the second to last song, it signals Grande’s complete transition away from her relationship with Gomez and into the “delightful” abyss of her new one with Slater. Who is directly referenced with the urging, “Throw your guitar and your clothes in the backseat/My love, they don’t understand.” Grande describes how, upon meeting him, “Now I just can’t go where you don’t go” (which smacks of Tove Lo singing, “Come whatever, now or never/I follow you anywhere you go/Yeah, wherever, doesn’t matter/I follow you anywhere you go/Stay together, you make me better”).
Grande also addresses the appeal of Slater in terms of assuaging her ubiquitous anxiety, remarking (from both her and Slater’s perspective), “And usually, I’m/Fucked up, anxious, too much/But I’ll love you like you need me to/Imperfect for you/Messy, completely distressed/But I’m not like that since I met you/Imperfect for you.”
Having expunged her memory of Gomez by the end of Eternal Sunshine, it leaves the door wide open (no sexual innuendo intended) for Slater to be fully focused on for “ordinary things” featuring Nonna (not a rapper, but rather, Ari’s grandma, Marjorie Grande, who also cameos on thank u, next just before “bloodline”). Blissing out on the idea that, “No matter what we do/There’s never gonna be an ordinary thing/No ordinary things with you/It’s funny, but it’s true,” the most important takeaway is what Grande concludes the song with in wielding a recording of her grandma (of which she has many). That piece of wisdom at last answering the question she posed at the beginning of the record: “How can I tell if I’m in the right relationship?”
Per “Nonna,” the answer is simple: “Never go to bed without kissin’ goodnight. That’s the worst thing to do, don’t ever, ever do that. And if you can’t, and if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, you’re in the wrong place, get out.” The thing is, there’s probably a few relationships one will have in their life where they can feel comfortable not going to bed without “kissin’ goodnight.” In which case, the question actually still remains.
So maybe it’s better to extrapolate one other brief kernel from Eternal Sunshine. Specifically the one on “we can’t be friends (wait for you)” where there remains a hint of the sologamist as Grande self-soothes, “Me and my truth, we sit in silence/Baby girl, it’s just me and you.” Sounds a lot like the way she talks to herself on “thank u, next,” assuring, “I met someone else/We havin’ better discussions/I know they say I move on too fast/But this one gon’ last/‘Cause her name is Ari/And I’m so good with that.”
As for the men that provide an “interlude” in between the core relationship she has with herself, well, they certainly offer solid gold inspiration no matter what they look like. And besides, as Grande also says on the abovementioned song, “I don’t wanna argue, but I don’t wanna bite/My tongue, yeah, I think I’d rather die/You got me misunderstood/But at least I look this good.” Amen. Now please resume the recitation of your Eternal Sunshine hymnal without wondering why Grande failed to include, “I’m just a fucked-up girl who’s lookin’ for my own peace of mind; don’t assign me yours” somewhere on the record. Alas, Halsey already did that on 2020’s Manic (in addition to naming one of the songs on it “clementine”).
Genna Rivieccio
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