Anne-Marie - Therapy (LP) - Orange Vinyl

Anne-Marie’s second album, Therapy, arrived in July 2021 and felt like a candid catch-up with a friend you actually want to hear from. It followed the blockbuster run of Speak Your Mind and landed at number 2 on the UK Albums Chart, which tracks given the run-up of hit singles and the visible momentum around her that year. The title is not a gimmick. Across these songs she writes about panic, confidence, and self-sabotage with the same forthright tone she brings to her social feeds, only here the vulnerability sits on top of gleaming pop craft.

The record plays like a tour of modern UK pop. “Don’t Play,” with KSI and Digital Farm Animals, is the swaggering shot of energy that kicked off the campaign. The production leans on garage-flavored drums and a tight bassline, while Anne-Marie flips between sweet and spiky in that familiar way. It shot to number 2 on the UK Singles Chart and earned heavy rotation for a reason. Then there’s “Our Song” with Niall Horan, a breezy duet driven by acoustic guitar and an easy hook. It’s the kind of single you end up singing absentmindedly on a drive, the harmonies clicking just right like a summer radio staple. “Way Too Long,” with Nathan Dawe and MoStack, keeps the dance-floor tempo up, built for festival tents and car speakers in equal measure.

“Kiss My (Uh-Oh)” is the masterstroke of the set’s pop instincts. Teaming with Little Mix, Anne-Marie rides a hook that nods to Lumidee’s 2003 hit Never Leave You, itself built on Steven “Lenky” Marsden’s Diwali riddim. It’s a clever lift that feels celebratory rather than cynical, and the bridesmaids-themed video only amplified the song’s playful defiance. When the beat drops and the chorus hits, it’s hard not to grin. The guests here never feel like bolt-ons either. They all fit the record’s tone, which is more “crew of mates rallying around” than “label spreadsheet.”

The album cuts glue everything together. Opener “x2” snaps with rhythmic bite and lyrical bite to match, like she’s clearing the room before the party. “Breathing” pulls the tempo down without losing the pulse, pairing her softest delivery with a steady heartbeat of percussion. “Unlovable,” with Rudimental, brings a rushing, late-night lift that scratches the itch for the drum and bass tradition those guys carry. Then a song like “Beautiful” cuts closest to the title’s theme. The writing strips away the bravado and lands on the idea that esteem doesn’t show up with the next hit. It’s built, tested, built again.

What makes Therapy work is her voice in the narrative sense. She can sell a chorus, sure, but it’s the aside in a verse, the shrug in a bridge, the way she lets a line sit plain without reaching for a metaphor that sticks. The production is polished and current, but the personality never gets sanded down. You get the feeling these tracks were lived before they were written. That matters when an album promises the confessions implied by its name.

Spinning Therapy on wax brings out the dynamics in a way streaming sometimes flattens. The low end on “Don’t Play” hits a touch warmer, and the layered vocals on “Our Song” sit in a real room rather than a screen. If you’re crate-digging for Anne-Marie vinyl, this is the one that shows the full range from club-ready to hearts-on-sleeve. Therapy vinyl turns up regularly, and if you like the idea of lining up Anne-Marie albums on vinyl next to your pop heavyweights, this set earns the space. I’ve even pointed a couple of shoppers in a Melbourne record store toward it when they asked for something catchy but not empty. For folks hunting from home, it’s easy to buy Anne-Marie records online through the usual shops, including plenty that ship fast if you’re browsing from the vinyl records Australia scene.

Therapy is also a neat snapshot of UK pop in 2021. Rap-adjacent crossovers, dance producers stepping into the spotlight, girl-group camaraderie, and a star who can thread the whole thing together without losing her own voice. If Speak Your Mind introduced her to the world, this one reads like a real-time journal of becoming the artist who can carry a hit and a heart-to-heart in the same breath. It’s honest, hooky, and built to be played loud, then a little quieter when the lights come up and you’re not quite ready to call it a night.