It must feel pretty damn good to be Lisa right now. Alter Ego, the debut solo album by the Thai rapper and singer, is arriving at a germane time: HBO is airing the third season of its venomous satirical hit The White Lotus, in which she stars as one of the titular resort’s receptionists. The show is one of the last vaguely monocultural products that seems to exist right now, making instant stars of its cast; not that Lisa, government name Lalisa Manobal, necessarily needed the profile boost. As a member of behemoth K-pop four-piece Blackpink – perhaps the most successful girl group of all time, with billions of streams and a trail of sold-out stadiums left in their wake – she is already one of the most famous people in the world. But a show such as The White Lotus, which everyone and their grandmother watches, brings with it a different kind of fame.
Alter Ego is the kind of debut album seemingly designed to capitalise on that newfound attention – it’s a brash, high-octane pop-rap record that clearly wants to cover all bases. Opener Born Again, featuring Raye and Doja Cat, taps into 80s disco sleaze, landing somewhere between the Weeknd and Dua Lipa. A collaboration with Megan Thee Stallion is a would-be bad bitch anthem; one with Future is begging for placement in the trailer for an edgy mainstream action film. There’s a song with Rosalía – perfect for insertion into one of Spotify’s many well-streamed musica urbana playlists – as well as a gratuitous 90s sample (on Moonlit Floor) and a collaboration with nascent Afrobeats star Tyla for good measure.
In many ways, this feels like the kind of major label debut album that proliferated through the 2010s: it’s polished, professional and packed to the gills with au courant guest spots. And – perhaps because of these reasons – it feels less like a distinctive statement by a soloist looking to assert individual identity than a focus group-tested attempt at megastar success.
Squint and it’s hard to work out what exactly Lisa stands for, emotionally or conceptually. She is fond of name-checking brands and flexing her wealth, but never in a way that feels revealing or idiosyncratic. A hook such as “When I walk by, I hear them say / That’s money / That’s motherfuckin’ money” on Rapunzel, feels like the kind of shallow regurgitation of American hip-hop tropes that proliferated on Miley Cyrus’s infamous Bangerz album, which already felt outdated when it came out 12 years ago. When she raps, Lisa is only ever flexing, or issuing threats, to the point that when, on the late-album ballad Dream, she sings lovingly about an ex, it feels laughably out of character. The track reveals a surprisingly blunt view of genre: ballads are for soft emotions, while rap is for aggression. We’re in the midst of an era in which Sabrina Carpenter is using her ballads to issue venomous kiss-offs and Doechii is rapping about depression and addiction, making a viewpoint like Lisa’s feel woefully out of date.
Despite claiming to be “walking, causin’ havoc” on Fuck Up the World, the beats on Alter Ego, while always loud and busy, never feel abrasive or boundary-pushing in any material way. At worst, a song such as Elastigirl, with its “la-la-la-la-la-la” motif, feels like a less challenging reheat of Blackpink’s enduring early hit Ddu-Du Ddu-Du. Elastigirl lacks that song’s taut, borderline shocking militaristic edge (and it arrives some seven years later).
Alter Ego supposedly explores Lisa’s five distinct personae – Vixi, Sunni, Roxi, Kiki and Speedi – a concept somewhat neutered by the fact that it is only the guest artists who really stand out on the album. Future, growling and grunting, tears through his guest verse on Fuck Up the World; Tyla’s lithe, soft vocal on When I’m With You is a welcome change of pace compared with the metallic sheen often applied to Lisa’s voice. Not always, though: Rosalía and Doja Cat, generally two of pop’s most distinctive figures, are underserved by these cookie-cutter productions.
Given the outsized, epochal success of Blackpink – they were the first K-pop group to headline Coachella, and are set to once again play a run of stadiums around the world this summer – it is disappointing that Alter Ego comes across so stale. It does the opposite of what a great debut album should do, making Lisa herself feel like a cipher, outpaced by her guest stars and weighed down by her production. But hey – we’ll always have The White Lotus.
