Fletcher, “In Search Of The Antidote.”

“Here I fucking go again,” sings New Jersey native Cari Fletcher—better known as Fletcher—in the first lyric of her sophomore LP, In Search of the Antidote. Just a few years into her career, the rising pop star has performed with Miley Cyrus and won the 2023 GLAAD Award for Outstanding Music Artist. Her newest album consistently embraces the synth-pop sound of her earlier work, which occasionally succeeds but ultimately doesn’t live up to Fletcher’s conversational lyrics and powerful vocals.

Fletcher immediately delves into self-destructive habits in a fun but underwhelming opening track, singing “You say I’m ruining my life on purpose just because I can/ Maybe I am.” Verses backed by soft guitar strains with interminable reverb transition into a blazing chorus, which is lyrically and vocally strong but could benefit from a bit more punch. Still, Fletcher sells the track even if the sound is dated, recalling 2010s acoustic guitar playing and mundane synths.

Single “Doing Better” follows with fast-paced verses backed by a groovy bass line and simple percussion. Fletcher’s pop sensibilities shine on a track that discusses the difficulties of moving on post-breakup combined with the disillusionment of fame. The song’s minimal pop production works well with an addictive hook, sincere lyricism, and a cocky tone. It offers some of the best writing on In Search of the Antidote, but it could do without its outro, which uses overly on-the-nose cliches, like “Smiling on the outside/ Crying on the inside.”

One of the record’s most thrilling moments comes in the pulsating electro-pop of “Ego Talking,” with a dynamically infectious chorus and an intensely passionate bridge. “Lead Me On,” on the other hand, slows down the tempo as Fletcher pleads for connection and recognition from her unrequited lover.

Fletcher oozes with desperation through an anguished yet beautiful performance that would be perfect if not for the over-processed vocals. Though most prevalent in the first half of this track, the manipulation runs throughout the entirety of the album. This detracts from raw emotion and creates a robotic, slightly uncanny sound. Fletcher is an impressive performer and live vocalist, so this mixing feels underdeveloped and disappointing, though not enough to distract from most of the album’s high points.

On “Two Things Can Be True,” Fletcher answers her own questions: “Did we take it too far? Maybe/ Did I regret it then? No/ Do I regret it now that we don’t talk? Yes.” The track’s simple synths are perfectly pleasant and inoffensive, but the song truly picks up when Jennifer Decilveo’s production shifts into an eclectic storm of electronic chords and chaotic rhythms. Standing out from the rest of the song’s generic radio pop, this section of chaos shows that Fletcher’s sound would be enhanced by a step into the abstract.

On the frustrated and anticipatory “Eras of Us,” Fletcher embraces her smoky lower register as she attempts to move on from a rollercoaster relationship, confessing, “The problem is just that I’m an adrenaline slut.” Once again, the introduction of euphoric synths, distorted electric guitars and thumping percussion is where the song goes from a mundane pop tune to a standout moment of exhilaration.

“Attached to You” isn’t particularly memorable among the tracklist of similar synth-pop tracks, though the storytelling is endearing: “I know my mom/ She’d make you your favorite dish/ She’d be obsessed with you quick …/ That’s why I keep her at a bird’s eye view/ So she doesn’t get attached to you.” Sonically, though, not even Fletcher’s solid vocal performance is enough to make the fusty production memorable.

The sensual “Crush” merges themes of sex with vehemence and vulnerability, underscored through lines like “I want your kisses to cut me/ Come on, I dare you to love me.” It’s another decent track with a uniquely moody soul sound.

“Pretending” breathes life and energy back into the album, with a peppy pop-rock style and powerful belts. The post-chorus breakdown’s well-produced dreamy candy-pop section, though enjoyable, feels out of place—the chorus builds up energy, but the simplistic breakdown provides little satisfaction or bliss.

“Joyride” features a vivid—and slightly ostentatious—narrative, painting a picture of Fletcher hanging out in the kitchen with her lover after they “just fucked for like six hours.” It’s not sonically interesting.

As the record comes to a close, Fletcher finally finds her “antidote.” The finale is sunny, filled with bright harmonies and a sense of catharsis, but the awkward vocal processing is once again distracting.

Throughout In Search of the Antidote, Fletcher is messy, vulnerable, strong, sexy and unashamed. Her songwriting holds nothing back and embraces a range of tumultuous emotions, but the production features an unfortunately similar amount of ups and downs. Fletcher is very clearly talented, and there are some fantastic moments. With more euphoric and sonically eccentric instrumentation, maybe Fletcher can find the antidote to what is holding her back here.