Halsey, “The Great Impersonator.”

Halsey is nothing if not adventurous on their fifth album, The Great Impersonator. The record opens on six-minute acoustic ballad “Only Living Girl In LA,” filled with quiet introspection and self-doubt that accelerates into a fuzz-toned wall-of-sound in the final moments.

“I don’t know if I could sell out my own funeral/ At least at this point in time,” they sing.

Such is the loose concept as the pop artist travels through decades to recreate their sounds. That motif is evidenced on the bouncy ‘90s pop-rock stomp of “Ego,” which channels Alanis Morissette.

“Dog  Years” adds a feistier grunge edge. If the album sounds more personal, it’s no coincidence. Halsey faced a string of difficult life circumstances recently. The singer was dropped from their label, Capitol. They were also diagnosed with lupus and a rare condition called T-cell lymphoproliferative disorder, which is precancerous. Music doesn’t seem like such an an important deal in this context, but Halsey is still here. It’s that lived experience that paints the backdrop of the album.

“Every couple of years now the doctor says I’m sick and pulls out a brand new bag of tricks then they lay it on me,” they sing.

“Letter to God (1974)” is an acoustic vocal interlude that puts listeners in the recording studio with the artist. The trio of “Letter to God” tracks advance a narrative of Halsey’s personal reflections of their challenges with the passage of time. Elsewhere, tracks like “Panic Attack” take on a ‘70s-centric Fleetwood Mac vibe. Despite the album’s title, the material never feels like a copy. Instead, it channels musical influences as a vehicle to convey emotion. Impressively, it typically eschews radio playability; in a time when most songs are in that three-minute sweet spot, the majority of these 18 songs veer past four minutes.

The shapeshifting continues on “Hometown,” a rootsy country tune in the vein of Dolly Parton. Each song offers layers of Halsey’s vocals and shows their ability to excel with different textures. “I Never Loved You” and “Darwinism” both offer pointed lyricism and intimate balladry, the latter with a pained and isolated vocal delivery. “Lonely Is the Muse” brings back the alt-rock with a sound reminiscent of Radiohead.

One of the album’s pinnacle moments is its biggest detour, the dark soulful stomp of “Arsonist,” with a lyrical delivery approaching spoken-word. The smokey layered vocals are compelling and add to the mood of the song. Then, groovier ballads “Life of the Spider” and “Hurt Feelings” slow their pace. The title track is a whimsical string-laden song that brings the album full circle.

While “Lucky” may have more of an upbeat and poppy sheen, the lyrics are a continuation of the darker tones on the album, exploring the concept of death. But what all the songs have in common—the through-line—are the reflections on mortality, love and loneliness. It’s an impressive personal portrait.

Follow writer Mike DeWald at Twitter.com/mike_dewald.