Hesitant, Soft Spoken, School Poetry

Greta Kline is a woman of many names and aliases. Starting her career with the pseudonym Ingrid Superstar and refining that name into Frankie Cosmos, a stage name given by her now ex-boyfriend. “Frankie Cosmos” stuck, easy on the ears and easy to pronounce, and Kline stuck with it as well. Now releasing her latest album, Inner World Peace, the 28 year old reminds her audiences she never stopped using the short song format.

“Abigail” is a feel good track. It’s simple melodies and digestible synths gather together to make your head move from side to side. It can be described as a dopamine-infused song. It’s easy to hear for any consumer, and it keeps on the side of simple, short lyrics.

“Aftershook” is a bit more sullen. Kline’s crystal-like voice stagnates the energy throughout the verses, only to surprise the audience’s ears in the surprisingly lighthearted chorus, which is preceded by lead and rhythmic guitars and soft drums. Astutely, she changes from major to minor throughout the song.

“Fruit Stand” starts off gloomy as well, but morphs into a monotonous tune, somehow comparing her love life and lover to a fruit stand. “Fruit Stand” seems to be more of a musicalized children’s poem than a song that can hold its own and stay on the audiences mind.

“Magnetic Personality” seems to kick off a change in the album’s direction. Kline takes it into a more interesting, slightly rock infused turn, which ends too soon.

“Wayne” brings the album back to its original, soft, feel good sound. Kline is a master of using complicated metaphors, which she makes sure to use in such a way that the listener does not know whether the subject is autobiographical or make-believe. “Like in first grade, when I went by Wayne,” Kline sings, adding Wayne to her ever-growing list of pseudonyms. “Sky Magnet” adds more to her use of elementary school imagery, painting pictures in the listener’s mind with words such as “clay, cafeteria tray” to convey her feelings about growing up, or at least, so it seems.

“A Work Call” starts like “Fruit Stand,” soft and gloomy, but then turns into a feel good song, but not for long, turning the song more sullen before it reaches its half, and ending in echoing chains of never ending “again and again and again” until the song ends with guitars mirroring her melodies.

The album’s longest song, “Empty Head” stands in contradiction to its title and content. It is easily the most enjoyable song in the album so far, given its lyrical devel0pment and meaning. Kline sings about not having to sing all the time, while having a lot to say, not being able to shut up about her dreams, and loving silence all simultaneously.

Starting with a fun riff, “Fragments” picks up the album in a more lyrical way. Its title sums up how it sounds: like fragments of different poems and songs stitched together to make one cohesive track. “Prolonging Babyhood” is easily one of the oddest titles for a song. However, it is the track that clarifies the meaning of the album, enlightening the audience as to Kline’s written-in-crayon’s lyrics. “I don’t wanna feed myself, I don’t wanna think about the future,” Kline sings softly. Growing up is painful in this world, and she knows it.

Shedding light on the track’s percussions, “One Year Stand” goes back to Kline’s style of complex lyrics, some of which are “I’m going to start letting you put spinach in my eggs”. “F.O.O.F.” seems like a strange title until you realize it means “Freak Out On Friday,” to which she dedicates to those who still listen to her music from 2019, specifically, at 1am.

“Street view” is quite picturesque, talking about Google Maps street directions, making iPhone Notes list. She admits everything is like a cult, it’s better to write poem, and just laugh at the facts. 

Inner World Peace reads and sounds like a play based of a teenage girl’s diary in a coming of age movie, full with hard to decipher poetry and school imagery. Kline leaves her audience to interpret what she means in her songs, ending one and starting the next before you can truly grasp their concept. Growing up is painful, and responsibilities are rough but inevitable and requires strength, and this album is her love letter to coming to terms with it. Kline encourages her listeners to escape reality and take life lightheartedly, so it won’t weight down too heavy on us.