Although Miley Cyrus set the tone for her new record, Endless Summer Vacation, with the sologamist anthem that is “Flowers” (the track that also kicks off the album), there are many incohesive statements regarding love and attachment on what marks Cyrus’ eight studio effort. Billed as a so-called love letter to Los Angeles (though those moments feel few and far between), Cyrus isn’t exactly giving Lana Del Rey a run for her money on paying homage to that milieu. And it does bear noting that both transplants have seemed to make L.A. into their “forever home.” Though, when it comes to a Sagittarius like Miley, “forever” can be a more laughable word than it is to most.
Cyrus’ Sagittarian steez indeed takes hold of the entire album. Not just in how schizophrenic the emotions expressed can be, but also the sonic landscape itself. For if listeners thought “Flowers” was going to be a consistent benchmark, they would immediately realize otherwise via the tonal shift that takes place on “Jaded,” a twangy semi-ballad in the spirit of “Angels Like You”—complete with the part where Miley takes the blame for a relationship’s inability to work out. So it is that she declares, “I’m sorry that you’re jaded/I could’ve taken you places/You’re lonely now and I hate it/I’m sorry that you’re jaded.” But not sorry enough to have been a little less “cuckoo,” as the opposite sex so often likes to brand women that are too “emotional.” Still, Cyrus isn’t the only one responsible for the “misdeeds” that led to the end of this whirlwind, reminding, “You’re not even willin’ to look at your part/You just jump in the car and head down to thе bar ’til you’re blurry/Don’t know when to stop, so you take it too far/I don’t know whеre you are and I’m left in the dark ’til I’m worried.” This echoes fellow L.A. lover Billie Eilish’s sentiments on “Happier Than Ever” when she sings, “You call me again, drunk in your Benz/Driving home under the influence/You scared me to death, but I’m wasting my breath/‘Cause you only listen to your fucking friends.” The bottom line appearing to be: men can’t deal with their emotions, so they drown them in the numbing agent of alcohol.
The theme switches up sonically and lyrically again on “Rose Colored Lenses,” with Cyrus ruminating on the promise of a new relationship to an alt-rock tune. The promise of it, of course, depends on keeping the rose-colored glasses on (hence, name-checking the album’s title in this particular song). This usually involves never leaving the sex haze of the room (“Never wanna leave this room”) one is in with that new person. Perhaps like her own version of “La Vie En Rose,” Cyrus suggests, with the benefit of her glasses on, “We could stay like this forever, lost in wonderland/With our head above the clouds, falling stupid like we’re kids/Wearing rose-colored lenses, let’s just play pretend/Wearing rose-colored lenses, pretend we’ll never end.” Sooner or later, unfortunately, the door to the sex room has to open, and real life has to creep in. If for no other reason than to wash the sheets (“Somehow the bedsheets are dirty/Like sticky sweet lemonade”).
Yet real life still doesn’t quite creep in on “Thousand Miles” featuring Brandi Carlile. Ideal for soundtracking the life of Charlie Cale (Natasha Lyonne) on Poker Face, Cyrus ramps up her twang again to sing, “I’m not always right, but still, I ain’t got time for what went wrong/Where I end up, I don’t really care/I’m out of my mind, but still, I’m holding on like a rolling stone/A thousand miles from anywhere.” A harmonica instrumental toward the end punctuates the “ramblin’ man” vibe of the song before leading into “You.” Sadly released too late to serve as the theme song for the show of the same name, “You” was already premiered during Miley’s New Year’s Eve Party. Another stripped-down, mid-tempo kind of ballad that the former Hannah Montana has perfected over the years, Cyrus insists, “I want that late-night sweet magic, that forever-lasting/I’m kind of crazy ’cause that’s how you make me/I don’t need Jesus ’cause, baby, you saved me, I’m done/But only if it’s with you, oh.” It’s the type of song one could also imagine being in a 90s romance road movie (maybe even, sardonically, Natural Born Killers).
The transition from “AM” to “PM” that Cyrus mentioned while discussing the album for the Disney+ special, Miley Cyrus – Endless Summer Vacation (Backyard Sessions), occurs with “Handstand.” It instantly demarcates itself as the most auditorily divergent song on Endless Summer Vacation. And yes, “Handstand” also possess a few Del Rey connections. For one, the spoken word poetry sound of her intro that harkens back to Del Rey reciting T. S. Eliot on Honeymoon’s “Burnt Norton,” and, for another, flexing about being able to do a handstand while Del Rey recently admitted to far less agility via the lyric, “I haven’t done a cartwheel since I was nine.” So one imagines a handstand is out of the question as well. Cyrus’ commitment to fitness, however, has never been more apparent than it is with this album’s promotion. Not just in the Madonna-reminiscent (see: the image from the Sex book where she’s suspended in mid-air naked) cover, but in a video like “Flowers,” wherein she shows off her physical prowess as though to say to anyone who ever thought it was a good idea to leave her: look what you’re missing. To that end, Cyrus always comes across as the one to leave first, following the adage, “Leave before you’re left.” And, if possible, do a handstand on the way out. Perhaps some of the reason behind the uniquely different sound on this track comes from Harmony Korine collaborating on the lyrics (likely the spoken ones). But the following bravado-oozing lines feel like they’re all Miley: You’re questioning the science, ’cause you don’t understand/How I’m doing what I’m doing in a fucking handstand/You found it so impressive that I do it again/My other one is busy, so I use my left hand.”
Shifting sounds like shifting gears (a car analogy for an “L.A. record,” after all), “River,” the second single from Endless Summer Vacation, switches things up after that brief foray into the auditory equivalent of a drug trip. “River” is instead awash in the 80s-inspired beats that characterized Bangerz (hip hop appropriating though it might be), “River” is as sexual as one would expect from a Sag like Cyrus, who can’t help but use the word to her innuendo-making advantage. This includes lyrics like, “Heart beats so loud that it’s drownin’ me out/Livin’ in an April shower/You’re pourin’ down, baby, drown me out.” If it was slightly more seductive-sounding, it could easily pass for lyrics on Madonna’s “Where Life Begins” from Erotica, during which she sensually notes, “I’m glad you brought your raincoat/I think it’s beginning to rain.” Splooge, cum, orgasm—get it? Anyway, Miley’s in good company now for making such overt allusions using water.
With James Blake and Sia joining in on the songwriting credits for “Violet Chemistry,” there feels like a bit of tonal influence from both as Cyrus creates something like a thematic follow-up (nightlife-wise) to “Midnight Sky.” With the latter remarking, “Yeah, it’s been a long night and the mirror’s tellin’ me to go home/But it’s been a long time since I felt this good on my own,” “Violet Chemistry” offers, “Tonight, we’ll just be wrong/Ain’t done this in so long/We ain’t gotta talk, baby, we’ll keep the stereo on/Stay a while, stay a while with me/Stay a while, don’t deny the violet chemistry.” Cyrus is also sure to mention that she doesn’t really care if this is a one-night stand or “eternity,” she just wants that carnal flesh now, announcing, “There’s something between us that’s too major to ignore/May not be eternal but nocturnal, nothin’ more.” This might be the most L.A.-oriented element on the record, in fact.
Returning to playing the jilted lover we first got to know on “Flowers,” “Muddy Feet” featuring Sia feels like another dig at Liam Hemsworth as Cyrus spits accusations like, “Back and forth/Always questioning my questioning/Get thе fuck out of my head with that shit/Get the fuck out of my bеd with that shit.” She also wants the person in question to “get the fuck out of my house with that shit,” having cultivated her own space in the wake of the divorce—reminding one of the Whoopi Goldberg aphorism on marriage, “I don’t want somebody in my house.” Especially if they have muddy feet. Elsewhere, Cyrus adds with venom in her voice, “You’ve watered the weeds and you killed all the roses/Worthy arrives when the other door closes.” Even if the “worthy” being turns out to be yourself (as “Flowers” reminds). Sia joins in for the “Woah, oh, oh, oh, mm” outro that fleshes the song out before leading into “Wildcard.” Another Sag anthem, to be sure.
Questioning her “adroitness” in playing the role of “wifey” (a.k.a. being monogamous), the conflicted feelings Cyrus displays throughout Endless Summer Vacation are at total war here. On the one hand, she wants a love that lasts forever (that impossible word again), but on the other, she’s a free spirit who “can’t be tamed.” And so, as though providing her version of Taylor Swift’s “Anti-Hero,” Cyrus addresses the difficulties presented in pursuing a wildcard like her as she opens with the wry verse, “Do you wanna play house?/I could be your wife/Go and meet your mom in a dress too tight/Maybe I could stay and not break your heart/But don’t forget, baby, I’m a wildcard.”
The push and pull of the life monogamous versus the life sologamous additionally shows up in the lines, “I love when you hold me/But loving you is never enough/And don’t wait for me/‘Cause forever may never come.” Cyrus also gives a nod to “Flowers” with the lyrics, “I walk in the door, with my lips stained red/Pillows on the floor and the flowers dead.” The implication being that she’ll have to buy her own again, now that she’s caused another relationship rupture with her wildcard tendencies. The emotions of this segue perfectly into “Island,” on which Miley ponders whether she truly loves being alone or not. Musically, there’s a slight hint of interpolating George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” as Cyrus goes over the pros and cons of being so steadfastly independent. Indeed, to be as independent as she announced she could be on “Flowers,” it’s no secret that one has to be rich. The kind of rich that can get you away from all the riffraff. Private island rich, if you will. Thus, Cyrus describes the scene, “I’m on an island, dirty dancing in the sun/So close to heaven, but so far from everyone/Yeah, I’ve got treasures buried underneath the sand/But I’m still wishing for the love that I don’t have.” In short, it has a very “money can’t buy happiness” motif. Further intensified by Cyrus asking throughout the chorus, “Am I stranded on an island? Or have I landed in paradise?” Many actual island dwellers are forced to ask themselves the same thing outside the summer months. Because no, despite climate change, it’s no endless summer vacation for the “ordinaries” in this life.
It appears that, in the end, Cyrus decides in favor of independence on this track, noting, “And I won’t lie, it sure gets lonely here at night/But no one here needs nothin’ from me and it’s kind of nice.” This assertion, however, is once more belied by a track like “Wonder Woman,” the true denouement of the album (because the demo of “Flowers” doesn’t really count). Like the faint tinges of “Careless Whisper” on “Island,” this ballad has traces of Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel” all over it. Accordingly, it’s designed to be type of song that will wreak tears as Cyrus speaks of the proverbial “strong female” who never dares to show emotion (lest it slow her down with accusations of being “weak”). Dissecting the fragility of women and how they’re made to feel as though it’s an Achilles’ heel rather than a source of strength, Miley once more channels Madonna via her 2015 song, “Joan of Arc.” On it, Madonna laments, “I never admit it, but it hurts/I don’t wanna talk about it right now…/I’m not Joan of Arc, not yet/But I’m in the dark, yeah/I can’t be a superhero right now/Even hearts made out of steel can break down/I’m not Joan of Arc, not yet/I’m only human.”
Alas, the last thing patriarchal society wants women to be is human. Miley knows this only too well as she depicts the “wonder woman” who stifles it all, singing, “She’s a wonder woman/She knows what she likes/Never know she’s broken/‘Cause she’s always fine/She’s a million moments/Lived a thousand lives/Never know she’s hopeless/Only when she cries.” And when she does cry, it’s of course only in private…otherwise, she might be branded as “crazy” like Britney Spears (recently accused of being just that once more after crying in an Instagram video). Vulnerability is, after all, not “sexy,” right?
As for the bouts of vulnerability Cyrus reveals on Endless Summer Vacation, they ultimately betray her “tough girl” act. This is also reflective in her breakaway from RCA Records for the release of this album in order to fulfill a different contract with Columbia (sorry Mariah). The perk? It’s in conjunction with her own Smiley Miley imprint. Therefore, Cyrus is simultaneously mirroring the independent spirit of most musicians during this epoch while also holding fast to the romanticism associated with having a Major Label Deal. In effect, it’s never been a more schizophrenic time to be alive. Especially for a woman. And that much is chaotically (but catchily) conveyed on Endless Summer Vacation.
