I find hannah vig’s music more than just “sad girl pop.” Although the Ottawa-based singer-songwriter seems to have no problem with this labelling, I feel the term is too broad to capture her artistry, which is the case for many other “sad girl pop” artists. This might be because of how we categorize music nowadays. Spotify’s “sad girl starter pack” and other similar playlists typically feature artists like Billie Eilish, Lana Del Rey, Mitski, and boygenius—artists who have little genre similarities and vastly different sounds. Yet, they are categorized under the same umbrella, because they embodying distinctly feminine expressions of sorrow, passion, and rage. This aligns with the ongoing trend of categorizing music by mood, but I believe that this risks collapsing a wide range of music into a singular category of “female melancholy.” While it is true that curating playlists around specific moods can benefit from a diverse spectrum of songs, this can dull our ability to appreciate music with a nuanced approach.

One noticeable thing from vig’s latest album what a way to pass the time is a good example of “content clashing with form.” While her 2023 EP seasons change relied mainly on slow folk built around acoustic guitar, her newest project is bursting with diverse styles that amplify her melody and lyricism through a full backing band. The content– her piercing lyrics that are saturated with unrequited love and emotions, creates irony when it meets the form– rocking, vibrant, and melodically colourful music. what a way to pass the time sparks the same kind of excitement I felt when I was firstly introduced to the female-fronted indie rock renaissance from the late ‘80s and early ‘90s—the time when artists like Velocity Girl, Madder Rose, and Juliana Hatfield inspired many artists and musicians. These acts crafted melodically infectious yet emotionally intricate music that would later fuel the broader alternative rock explosion across western mainstream, as well as in East Asian countries like Japan and South Korea. Several tracks echo the sensibility of power pop, textures of jangle pop, and the deceptively sweet packaging of more emotionally wild content of “bubblegrunge.” In her latest album, vig’s lyricism, which was already exceptional in her debut EP, has become even more profound, unhinged, and eloquent. With a longer tracklist compared to her previous releases, she captures various facets of personal feelings from sapphic romance: agonizing breakups, intense fury, hesitation, and lingering attachment.

“over the moon” opens the album like a delayed response to the last track on her previous EP,  “seasons change.” “seasons change” is about the narrator confessing her growth in life, yet she returns in “over the moon” to acknowledge life’s difficulties. Despite all the changes that growth has brought, parts of her life still feel tedious and frustrating, especially when it comes to romance. In terms of artistic expression, she clearly has grown deeper and stronger. vig matches radiant melodies with pounding piano and drums that gather force like launching a rocket, layering them against bitter lyrics. The ironic tone effectively foreshadows the album’s character. The next track “around my kitchen” features shimmering guitar and tambourine, but delivers equally unmistakable melancholic lyrics. This peculiar combination reminds me of the sensory joy of stepping into sunlight and feeling a gentle breeze, after being cooped up inside while depressed. It depicts romance in all its contradictions, bitterness and sweetness intertwined. vig’s airy falsetto floats across her full vocal range as she narrates the story. 

“bodybag” is an intriguing piece of art. The narrator channels her fury over a lover’s infidelity through minor-key rock that weaves crime fiction imagery around “murder” and “body disposal,” echoing the outlaw country music genre with its wild, rebellious edge and criminal storylines. The artist even adopts a subtle southern twang in her delivery. While the previous two tracks explored anxiety and foreboding, the narrator begins taking direct action from this song forward. Just as true crime shows are engaging, this track injects dynamic momentum after the narrator’s previously powerless position in the album’s opening. The following track “lose it!” shares the grungy texture of “bodybag.” Lines like “You hold me like a grudge that you should let go of/I take you like a punch” use metaphor rather than blunt language to expose the inescapable violence lurking in emotionally invasive relationships.

My personal favourite is “roadside psychic.” Having already shown vulnerable transparency about mental and emotional states in seasons change’s “therapy,” vig once again excels in her vivid scene-setting through her language. She illustrates the mind’s struggle between persistent efforts toward healing and the inevitable stumbles that come with it. The shimmering, hopeful I-II-IV-I chord progression and melody convey the narrator’s pursuit of purpose and liveliness despite these struggles.

The midpoint of the album, “second hand interlude,” starts with a voicemail recording, which is a technique also used in the opening track. By incorporating slightly distant, lo-fi recordings (in “over the moon,” vig reportedly used moon landing radio transmissions treasured by her late grandfather), the song gets a more authentic, lived-in quality. The album title what a way to pass the time flows beautifully within the lyrics, inviting reflection on the time we spend with people who move through our lives, some distant and others close, and how we fill the life’s fleeting moments with the time.

“stitch me up” brings back the knife metaphor from “bodybag,” but in a much brighter alternative rock tonality. The I-bVII-IV chord progression creates ironic resonance when paired with angsty lyrics. This song captures the album’s essence perfectly and almost feels like a summary of the entire record, combining the lyrical themes with that signature grungy tone. “adeline” follows the precedent set by the previous EP’s “juliet” by featuring a personal name as its title. This stylistic choice adds a realistic, intimate quality to the piece. As someone who loves songs like Ben Folds Five’s “Kate,” I’m a fan of this approach. vig addresses lesbian relationships in her own distinctive way, revealing the theme naturally while capturing the realities of young romance: financial struggles, career pressures, relocation, hesitation, and regret.

“least favourite goodbye” shifts into softer folk territory compared to the previous tracks. Filled with conflicted emotions swinging between wanting love and knowing it’s not reciprocal, the four-minute composition holds back powerful drums and echo-like backing vocals until the 2:52 timestamp, building complex layers towards an explosive emotional release. This dramatic restraint followed by catharsis creates the album’s climactic moment, with the song’s clear narrative arc making it especially compelling. The closing track, “french exits” brings the emotional whirlwind of “least favourite goodbye” to a sweeping conclusion. The guitar-heavy sound carries a romantic quality, like someone driving away with the feeling of freedom coursing through them. Yet lines such as “And I won’t ever get back what I’m owed/But you’ll have to reap the things you sow/What you sow” recall emotions like the “grudge” from earlier in the album, keeping that sense of irony alive right until the album’s final moment.

what a way to pass the time demonstrates that romance isn’t entirely beautiful, yet despite such mess, we are continuously drawn to its intensity. As a result, we end up growing through these experiences, realizing this in hindsight. This album offers empathy for those currently navigating similar experiences, and bittersweet recognition for those who’ve already walked that path. Without question, those who have weathered passion’s storms will find their journey far richer when they look back. It is a testament to youth, an album about how we choose to pass our time, or rather, how we fill our lives.