Pochette I Think I Spoke Too Soon, Rachel Chinouriri
Two years after a well-received debut, “What A Devastating Turn Of Events,” London’s Rachel Chinouriri returns with “I Think I Spoke Too Soon,” out October 16 via Parlophone and Atlas Artists. The record unfolds across a single night out, tracking the moment the “party girl” facade starts to crack, revealing a deeper unease with alcohol, love and herself.
The shift is unmistakable. Where her debut sat in melancholic indie-pop territory, Chinouriri now leans fully into the dancefloor, drawing on Madonna, Kylie Minogue, LCD Soundsystem, MGMT, Donna Summer and Prince. The move fits a wider 2026 trend of pop artists returning to the club after years of introspective ballads. But for Chinouriri, the party is never just a backdrop: it’s the setting for a constant internal tension, a tightrope walk between infectious rhythm and razor-sharp lyrics.

Writing that’s equal parts defensive, self-deprecating and vulnerable
Written and recorded across London, Hereford and Los Angeles, the album brings back longtime collaborators apob, Mary Weitz, Glen Roberts and Daniel Hylton-Nuamah, alongside new names including Lucy Dacus. British critics have praised writing that’s equal parts defensive, self-deprecating and vulnerable, somehow making you want to dance while dealing with subjects that are anything but light. That tension between sound and subject matter is, by most accounts, the album’s defining trick.
Originally from Croydon, in south London, Rachel Chinouriri made her name in 2024 with her debut album, which was well-reviewed and cracked the UK top 20. She also gained wider visibility after an unexpected shout-out from Adele, who publicly praised her work, a moment Chinouriri has since described as one that left her feeling almost unable to process it. Two years on, “I Think I Spoke Too Soon” confirms that upward trajectory: British music press describes it as the most accomplished, most confident version of her sound yet, while other reviews praise a record that captures an artist fully reconnected with her own identity.
The opener, “One Song Away From Crying,” released as the lead single in late July, sets the scene over a muffled disco beat: that precise moment you know you should leave and can’t quite make yourself do it. Further in, “AAAHHH!!!” stands out for its lightness, a joyful, loved-up ode that leans into sunny Kooks-style pop. By contrast, “Parasite,” the album’s darkest track, revisits a toxic relationship and drinking that’s spiralled out of control, while “The Good Fight” returns to rockier guitars to chart the anxiety of the morning after. The record closes on “Crash This Car,” a more optimistic, cathartic ending after the emotional rollercoaster that precedes it.
“Pretty Girls”: the album’s rallying cry
Track two is also the album’s most unifying moment. Chinouriri has described “Pretty Girls” as an anthem for every woman who wants to express who she is without fear of judgement. Built on soaring verses and an instantly memorable chorus, the track was paired with a video directed by Dora Paphides on release day, and it carries the energy spike that follows the record’s more tentative opening.
“Broken Chair”: the record’s high point
The album’s third single, “Broken Chair,” was written in Los Angeles with Lucy Dacus. The song drops the listener straight into a night out, at the point where partying becomes a way of running from something else. Built on a trumpeting synth line and cowbell-driven drums, it’s the track critics agree on most as the record’s best, with a chorus sharp enough to sum up the whole album’s gambit: making you dance to lyrics that, on their own, don’t dance at all.

Full tracklist
- One Song Away From Crying
- Pretty Girls
- Baby Steps
- Favourite Desperation
- I’m A Star
- AAAHHH!!!
- Broken Chair
- Shiver
- Make Believe
- Parasite
- The Good Fight
- Crash This Car
Not every track lands equally: “Make Believe,” the album’s second single, released in September, is seen by some critics as less successful, its witty writing getting lost under vocals that stay too whispered throughout. Between the two peaks of “Pretty Girls” and “Broken Chair,” the rest of the record holds steady: “Baby Steps” and “Favourite Desperation” keep up the tension between vulnerability and rhythm, “I’m A Star” leans into irony about the image a stage persona projects, and “Shiver” offers a more intimate breather before “Parasite” darkens the mood again.
That range is exactly what separates this record from a one-note dance-pop exercise. Chinouriri doesn’t just alternate bangers and ballads; she lets the same emotional thread — the comedown that follows every high — run through nearly every arrangement choice, whether it’s a muffled beat, a whispered verse or a sudden guitar line. It’s a record that rewards being played start to finish, in the order the artist intended, rather than picked apart single by single.
Taken as a whole, “I Think I Spoke Too Soon” delivers on its premise: danceable pop that never loses sight of the tension running underneath, caught between a dancefloor promising to help you forget and a mind that won’t let you. It’s precisely that balance — surface energy against underlying unease — that lifts this second album above a simple pop exercise.
Coming from an artist who built her reputation on quieter, more confessional songwriting, the gamble pays off. Rather than chasing the dancefloor trend for its own sake, Chinouriri bends it to her own ends, using the genre’s built-in euphoria as a foil for lyrics that keep circling back to doubt. It’s a record built for a night out, but one that still has something to say the morning after.
