Her boyfriend? Shockingly identical to her brother. Her Wicked press tour? Overshadowed by her weirdly codependent relationship with Cynthia Erivo than the movie itself. Homewrecker allegations still slam her from all sides. The Oscars left her empty–handed; the Grammys, under–nominated. Ariana Grande had one mission with eternal sunshine deluxe: brighter days ahead: to polish the dents in her image and maintain her status as a pop superstar. And she delivered.
The six–track deluxe starts off with the long–anticipated “intro (end of the world).” This extended version is a lyrically gut–wrenching reflection of Grande’s past relationship with Dalton Gomez, while the original portrays her doubts while in the relationship. She embraces the what–could’ves and what–would’ves (and, frankly, how horrible of a partner Gomez actually was) with questions like, “Would you still be here, pretending you still like me? / Pretending you don’t regret not thinking before asking?” Like the original, the track leans heavily on Grande’s powerful voice, juxtaposed with a rather relaxed, subtle instrumental. But this time, her new vocals carry a breathier, almost melancholic edge.
Next comes the media darling of the album, “twilight zone.” If the track were summed up in one word, it’d be “dreamy.” From its delicate synths and echoing beats to Grande’s breathy falsettos, everything about this track is hypnotic and out–of–this–world. That’s exactly her intent: to capture the disorienting in–between of heartbreak and healing. She’s “stuck in the twilight zone,” bounded by “black and white,” somewhere between grieving and growing. This vulnerability comes through in her quiet confession: “It’s so strange, this I never do / Not that I miss you, I don’t / Sometimes, I just can’t believe / you happened.” It’s a subtle yet powerful demonstration that moving on is far from linear.
The following track “warm” is where the deluxe’s narrative really starts to crystalize. The chorus—“Cause I’m cool / On my own / But it’s warmer / In your arms”—may initially be interpreted as a romantic relapse, similar to the dreamy “twilight zone.” But the real message runs deeper. In the prechorus, she dares a mysterious person to meet her “at the exosphere” where she’s “safe and sound,” reveling in her independence and secure in her emotions. She’s cool, but not closed off—a little warmth from another person wouldn’t hurt. This is the anthem for those who’ve healed, moved on, and are ready to love again.
Then Grande ditches the slow, melancholic jams and reheats her positions–era nachos. Don’t be fooled by the name “dandelion;” this is not about skipping through flower fields and blowing dandelion seeds into the evening breeze. Instead, she sensually suggests “you should plant this seed” because she “blooms at night,” amongst other very sexual innuendos. Whether or not the song has some abstract artistic meaning—by virtue of her aforementioned healing and self–discovery—or the pop star just can’t drop an album without at least one scandalous song, it mostly reads as a playful return to her seductive side. It starts off with a mute, jazzy saxophone that leads surprisingly into a frenzy of trap–like drums and beats. Her vocals are reminiscent of those in her 2020 album, marked by the same characteristic airiness and playfulness.
“past life” features an Ariana Grande who has completely moved on from her relationship with Gomez. Her lyrics are a tad more playful, as she threatens him to “elevate her expectations” and let him lose her, almost acknowledging just how poor her decisions were during the relationship. “You think I’m lost but that’s just how you found me” is another stab at her naive self and an even bigger stab at Dalton for taking advantage of her vulnerability.
“Hampstead” is possibly Grande’s most personal track. It directly acknowledges the hate she’s received for allegedly homewrecking current beau Ethan Slater’s past marriage, but in a way we haven’t seen her through in interviews. For example, she questions “What’s wrong with a little bit of poison?,” acknowledging her lack of purity but asserting that not everyone is perfect, herself included. Perhaps on her wedding day, she’ll also sing “I do, I do, I do, I do / What makes you think you’re even invited?” to everyone who’s made one too many tweets about her personal life.
Honestly, I found the production of “Hampstead”—the album’s final track—to be the most intriguing. The simulation of background chatter in the first verse is clever and likely a direct reference to the gossip and public intrusion that’s bled into her personal life, and now her music. The song’s title, as well, provides another layer of context, named after the London town she stayed in when she filmed Wicked.
Praise for Grande’s songwriting and artistry aside, the deluxe did fall short in terms of production and variety. Five out of the six tracks were on the slower side, and some critics, including myself, would describe the listening experience as bland and repetitive. Indeed, some tracks, specifically “warm” and “past life,” were definitely on the more forgettable side—and although “dandelion” was my personal favorite, I admit its mixing between the instrumentals could’ve been improved.
All in all, the deluxe crafts a story of growth, acceptance, moving forward—and a hint of the singer’s promiscuous side—with deeply personal songwriting and touching vocals. This is nothing less than a testament to her new life beyond a toxic engagement, capturing her ongoing journey of healing and self–reclamation. Piling these tracks onto eternal sunshine—an album rooted in the desire to erase memories of a past relationship—marks a mature change in perspective: from forgetting to accepting, a desire to recognize, not run. Sonically, it feels like the type of music the pop megastar has wanted to make her entire life.
