Miley Cyrus flaunts versatility and maturity on 'Endless Summer Vacation,' but the album ends on a low note

Ahlgrim: "Flowers" makes a lot of sense as the lead single and opening track for "Endless Summer Vacation," an album that celebrates the solitude and self-sufficiency of a woman in her prime.

The song takes pieces from every era of Cyrus' kaleidoscopic career and welds them together to create a singular smooth artwork, much like a stained-glass window. It's a triumphant display of hard-earned composure after spending a lifetime in the spotlight, making mistakes and weathering rebuke, and becoming an icon.

Most importantly, "Flowers" is so much more than a breakup song. The chorus ("I can buy myself flowers," "Talk to myself for hours / Say things you don't understand") is a fresh take on the motto Cyrus has using for years, in songs like "Do My Thang," "On My Own," "Cyrus Skies," "Younger Now," and "Gimme What I Want."

Sonically, it feels like a combination of the sunny-pop "Malibu" and the disco-rock "Midnight Sky." It's everything we already love about Cyrus, refashioned for today's Top 40 radio.

Larocca: There's a reason "Flowers" broke Spotify records and bloomed into Cyrus' longest-running No. 1 song on the Billboard Hot 100. It's a catchy celebration of resilience and independence, while still snarky enough to feel like you're getting the last laugh against whichever jaded ex you're leaving in the past.

Ahlgrim: Cyrus' songwriting has always thrived in the post-heartbreak haze and "Jaded" is an excellent example of this skill. "I'll change my number but keep your T-shirt / I don't mind it's torn up and faded" is a top-tier breakup lyric.

Sonically, "Jaded" is a classic Cyrus-style power ballad, in the same vein as "Angels Like You" or her live mashup of "Wrecking Ball" and "Nothing Compares 2 U." It's the kind of chorus she loves to belt, putting her guttural high register on the pedestal it deserves.

Larocca: "Jaded" feels like a natural progression from "High," one of Cyrus' best songs off "Plastic Hearts." As with the older track, on "Jaded," Cyrus is in conflict with her own emotions as she contemplates the end of a relationship. She knows she did her very best saying goodbye, but "it's a fuckin' shame that it ended like that."

Those soaring vocals on the chorus gave me goosebumps. "Jaded" also serves as a welcome reminder that Cyrus' voice is one of the best in pop music today.

Ahlgrim: "Rose Colored Lenses" acts as a kind of thesis for the album, revealing the title to be a romantic delusion.

Cyrus wants to remain "lost in wonderland" and "pretend we'll never end," but she knows that nothing stays the same — least of all her own desires. This is a well-worn theme in her discography (and will be revisited later down this tracklist in "Wildcard").

"Everything changes me forever," she told Zane Lowe in 2020. "I'll never be who I was yesterday. In a way, every night before I go to sleep, I say goodbye to myself."

Of course, the allure of an "endless summer vacation" is undeniable. She almost seems to convince herself that it's possible, swooning through lyrics like "Never wanna leave this room / Daydream, déjà vu."

But the song betrays its own premise, designed to evoke a vintage vignette. It sounds like a Polaroid of a divorced couple on their honeymoon.

Larocca: I felt like I was experiencing déjà vu the second this song started playing, but it's because I then realized the opening percussion is exactly the same as Djo's "End of Beginning," a song we named one of the best new offerings from last September.

It took me out of the song for a second, but Cyrus was able to pull me back in with her dreamy vocals as she croons, "Sunrise got us up early / So we put on our shade / Somehow the bed sheets are dirty / Like sticky sweet lemonade."

"Sticky sweet" is the perfect descriptor for "Rose Colored Lenses." It explores how sweet it feels to just get stuck in one perfect morning, ignoring all the red flags you'd see if everything wasn't already tinted rose. Cyrus knows it's all a daydream, but god, does it feel good to just pretend with her.

Ahlgrim: "Thousand Miles" plays like a sequel to "Maybe You're Right," a powerful moment of catharsis on Cyrus' fourth album "Bangerz."

"You think I'm crazy, you might be right," Cyrus sings in the first verse, continuing in the chorus: "I'm out of my mind, but still, I'm holding on like a rolling stone."

Back in 2013, Cyrus was singing about that very same fear: "You might think I'm crazy / That I'm lost and foolish leaving you behind / Maybe you're right."

"Thousand Miles" is a striking moment of reflection and resilience, as though Cyrus is peering through the looking glass and watching her 20-year-old self staring back. And it's particularly poignant for Cyrus, who is open and proud of her fluid approach to love.

Inviting Brandi Carlile to duet on this song — a fellow queer icon with country-music roots — was another stroke of genius.

Larocca: In the Spotify liner notes, Cyrus revealed the idea for "Thousand Miles" originated around 2016 when one of her close friends "lost her sister to suicide" and she "couldn't imagine not having my little sister in my life," referring to her younger sibling, Noah Cyrus, who she wrote the song for.

She went on to say the song is about "happiness and sisterhood" and has "become something so far from the sadness that inspired the song."

It makes a lot of sense considering "I'm not always right, but still, I ain't got time for what went wrong" is the most sister-like sentiment I've ever heard — it's a more poetic rumination on the phenomenon of fighting with your sibling and then immediately acting like nothing happened in favor of getting them to join you on a coffee run.

There's also something very "Hannah Montana"-coded about this song; it's a bit reminiscent thematically of "You'll Always Find Your Way Back Home" ("I told myself I closed that door, but I'm right back here again"). But this adds to its endearment. Miley and Noah were kids together, and so their roots are intrinsically intertwined together no matter where either of them ends up, even if it's a thousand miles from anywhere.

Ahlgrim: "You" is a true standout on this album, in that it doesn't sound like any of its fellow tracks. It's an old-school torch song, fit to soundtrack a spontaneous slow dance in the middle of a dive bar.

But even though it's meant to sound romantic, "You" is deceptively seedy. Each scene that Cyrus describes — stuff she only wants to do with her lover by her side — is a sloshed, pie-eyed mess. She sings about getting kicked out of bars, crashing a wedding, cutting her hair, and picking a fight just to have sex. Toxicity is lurking in the shadows of this relationship.

In the chorus, Cyrus claims she wants "forever-lasting love," but also admits, "I am not made for no horsey and carriage."

Wade through the Cuban cigar smoke and the allure of a moonlit romp, you may find that "You" is actually a song about grappling with what you want versus what you need — and knowing in your heart that they're probably not the same.

Larocca: I'm really enjoying how tactile this album is. Cyrus is getting so specific about what she's seeing, feeling, and experiencing and that's really coming through on "You." The second verse is particularly striking: "Let's crash a wedding tonight, get drunk by the lights / Then I'll pick a fight to make up on the floor of your room / But only if it's with you."

Ahlgrim: When I first heard this song, I immediately wrote in my notes, "'Dead Petz' coded."

Indeed, "Handstand" is futuristic and a little filthy ("My other one is busy, so I use my left hand"), recalling the overarching tone of her 2015 album. It sounds like Cyrus took her Space Dude and her Space Bootz and ran away for a spaceship rendezvous.

As a longtime "Dead Petz" defender, I'm more than happy to strap in for the ride, flying past the manta rays and palm trees.

Larocca: Nah, sorry, this one was abusive to my ears. The production around the one-minute, 45-minute mark really tested my ability to not immediately skip to the next track.

Ahlgrim: "River" leads the second act of "Endless Summer Vacation," designed to capture the creeping potential of dusk. It represents the sun and moon swapping places in the sky. (Some might even call it the best of both worlds.)

"There's a certain energy to the night and you can feel trouble boil up to the surface and it's very inspiring to me," Cyrus previously teased.

Fittingly, "River" is also the second single of this era, promoted with a glamorous music video on the morning of the album's release.

Although it's sonically very different from "Flowers," I'll be surprised if "River" doesn't make another impressive run on the charts. It's a gleaming burst of club-pop that recalls the signature dance-floor stylings of Kylie Minogue and Jessie Ware.

Larocca: "River" is a perfect foil to "Flowers;" the latter grounds her independence in earthy imagery, while the former paints her counterpart as water, something she couldn't blossom without.

She extends that metaphor to the production. The song is alive. As she says, it's never running dry — in fact, she kicks things into high gear immediately after that pre-chorus, speeding through the bridge with a rush of adrenaline. Impeccable.

Ahlgrim: Within seconds of pressing play, "Violet Chemistry" became my favorite song on this album.

It's the perfect example of a niche genre I've long referred to as "summer nights" — music that's starry and spooky, warm and edgy, all at the same time. It's music that makes you want to hang your head out of the car window as you speed down the highway, the purple horizon swimming in your rearview.

Larocca: Another killer bridge! "Violet Chemistry" is all about giving in to temptation and not thinking too deeply about it.

Cyrus paints vivid scenes of her night out, begging you to stay with her a while longer because it's only just getting started. It's seductive, sexy, and enticing; I'm here for all of it.

Ahlgrim: This sounds like a vault track from the "She Is Coming" era, and I don't mean that in a positive way. (Lest we forget, it was the EP that gave us "Cattitude.")

Despite a few standout lines ("You smell like perfume that I didn't purchase"), "Muddy Feet" is full of simplistic lyricism that I thought Cyrus had outgrown. I'm not sure why she chose to include this song on such a mature album.

Tapping Sia as a feature was another strange choice — not just because of her damaged reputation in the wake of her offensive film "Music," but also because her distinctive voice in the outro really drags me back to 2015, reinforcing the song's outdated vibe.

Larocca: Sia's inclusion on "Muddy Feet" made the song feel... dated? I can't understand why she's here and I wish she wasn't. But even without her, the track is a throwaway. No one's going to remember this song in the grand scheme of Cyrus' career.

Ahlgrim: Ironically, the song called "Wildcard" is the album's most predictable offering.

Cyrus has been telling this exact story for over a decade, from 2010's "Can't Be Tamed" to 2020's "WTF Do I Know," and she has found many more creative ways to say "I'm a wildcard."

Larocca: I love the picture Cyrus paints in the first 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."

Unfortunately, the song doesn't keep the same level of intrigue throughout, making it an overall just-fine addition to the album.

Ahlgrim: At first glance, "Island" feels ill-suited for the "p.m." half of this album, given its summery synths and tropical drums. It even opens with the lyric, "I'm on an island, dirty dancing in the sun."

I have to assume the apparent misplacement was intentional. So I'm inclined to interpret "Island" as a kind of late-night (perhaps drug-induced) hallucination. The second line, "So close to heaven, but so far from everyone," reminds me of swaying alone in the middle of a club. The island is the dance floor; the disco ball is the sun.

It's one of those moments when you're out with your friends, sweaty and single and carefree, but a feeling of loneliness suddenly washes over you. No one is waiting for you to come home. It's isolating and liberating at the same time: "Am I stranded on an island? Or have I landed in paradise?"

Larocca: "Island" is hypnotic, but not necessarily in a good way. It hinges too heavily on its central debate — "Am I stranded on an island? Or have I landed in paradise?" — which is trying to be deep and introspective but comes across as corny instead.

Ahlgrim: Final tracks are tremendously difficult to nail, and unfortunately, a lot of singers these days just can't resist the lure of a corny album closer: Dua Lipa's "Boys Will Be Boys," Olivia Rodrigo's "Hope Ur Ok," and Cyrus' own "Inspired" come to mind.

"Wonder Woman" fits that bill to a tee. The title itself is uber-corny, so I was braced for this — but I still held out hope that Cyrus would serve us something bizarre and unexpected, flip the cliché on its head.

Alas, "Wonder Woman" is a sparse piano ballad with lyrics like "Never know she's broken / 'Cause she's always fine" and "She makes sure that no one's around to see her fall apart," which are just glorified Tumblr posts from 2012.

Larocca: What in the ASPCA commercial is this? It's giving Sarah McLachlan in the worst way. I almost feel bad being so critical about a song inspired by Cyrus' grandmother, but I just can't take this seriously. All I'm seeing in my head are sad puppies.

Ahlgrim: "Endless Summer Vacation" starts off incredibly strong. Following the No. 1 global smash "Flowers," Cyrus delivers a seven-song run of bold and polished brilliance, no song sounding quite like another.

Her versatility shines in the first half of this tracklist, gliding from pop to country, then R&B to experimental alien music, just before transforming into a pre-Y2K club diva. Despite Cyrus' shape-shifting abilities, it all sounds cohesive.

But after "Violet Chemistry," this momentum drops off dramatically. Cyrus loses steam in the "p.m." portion, exactly when I expected her to kick it up a notch. "Muddy Feet" is a miss, "Wildcard" is a snooze, and "Wonder Woman" should've been left on the cutting-room floor.

Overall, "Endless Summer Vacation" is still a triumph for Cyrus with many more gems than duds. And to be fair, as she proved with "Plastic Hearts," she has earned the right to do whatever she wants.

At its core, "Endless Summer Vacation" is an album about evolution. Cyrus seems to collect nuggets of maturity and self-sufficiency at the end of every twist and turn, like gold coins in a video game. There may be side quests — bosses to defeat and princesses to save — but at the end of the day, the title screen bears her name. Even when it seems like Cyrus is addressing a lover or an ex in a song, she is always the star. Her needs come first.

That's an admirable place to be, and it's clear that she only got here through hard emotional labor. Cyrus spends much of this tracklist confronting her past — and she comes out of the fray relatively unscathed, battle-worn but still standing, holding hands with all her old selves.

Larocca: The concept of splitting the album into two segments — "a.m." and "p.m." — may have been smart in theory, but in practice, it led to an unbalanced listening experience.

Cyrus' clarity and sense of self are strongest on the morning songs — barring "Handstand," every track on the early side is a precious new gem within Cyrus' growing discography. "Rose Colored Lenses" and "Jaded" are especially stunning, exhibiting the very best of what Cyrus has to offer. And "Flowers," of course, is a bona fide hit.

But by front-loading all her best tracks, Cyrus tires out as she heads into the night, which makes me wonder if her questionable taste on "Muddy Feet, "Island," and "Wonder Woman" could've developed out of delirium and sleep deprivation.

That's not to say the night is a complete wash, though. "River" is one of the sickest tracks here and already a major highlight within Cyrus' larger catalog, and "Violet Chemistry" is intoxicating. I just wish the night didn't die after she left the club — what happened to staying awhile?

But overall, this album contains a lot of what I'd want from a Miley Cyrus album: spunk, spice, incredible vocals, and that classic juxtaposition of being a free spirit who struggles with wanting to give in wholly to another.

Cyrus expertly navigates her inner conflict of asserting her self-sufficiency versus submitting to her codependent tendencies with a sharp pen, strong attention to detail, and several pulsing beats. She may not always get the balance right, but after all, she doesn't really care or have time for what went wrong — she'll just keep holding on like a rolling stone.

Worth listening to:

"Flowers"

"Jaded"

"Rose Colored Lenses"

"Thousand Miles (featuring Brandi Carlile)"

"You"

"River"

"Violet Chemistry"

Background music:

"Wildcard"

Split decision:

"Handstand"

"Island"

Press skip:

"Muddy Feet"

"Wonder Woman"

*Final album score based on songs per category (1 point for "Worth listening to," .5 for "Background music," .5 for "Split decision," 0 for "Press skip").