The cover art of Harry Styles' "Harry's House" album, with extra Harrys dancing and lounging around the room.
Design by Madison Grosvenor.

The long-awaited third studio album from Harry Styles is finally here, and it is exceeding all expectations. Harry’s House is an intimate portrait of love and fun that will guide you through every emotion. His crooning vocals and epic instrumentals (hello, steel guitar, I love you) make the album a cinematic experience, and no two songs sound the same. Combine that with his incredible lyricism (“Somehow you’ve become some paranoia / A wet dream just dangling” … come on) and we’ve got a certified banger on our hands — one that you can sob, dance, drive and eat sushi to.  

“Music for a Sushi Restaurant”

Moving past its similarities to the “A.N.T. Farm” theme song, “Music for a Sushi Restaurant” is the kind of opener that lets you know you have no idea what’s in store. There’s an interesting contrast at the beginning between the loud production and Styles’s soft vocals, as if he’s nervous to show us what he’s been working on. All the different elements of the song, like the vocal harmonies, the catchy horns and Styles repeatedly yelling “you know I love you, babe” don’t seem like they all work together initially, but the more you listen, the more they do (and the more you’ll want to dance). The only question worth asking is, what exactly does Styles define as “music for a sushi restaurant?” He sings that it’s “music for whatever you want” — a definition that’s fitting for Harry’s House as a whole.

“Late Night Talking”

One of the best parts of a new relationship is the late-night talks — when you stay up into the early morning getting to know each other. You know you’ll be exhausted tomorrow, but it’s worth it. Styles manages to perfectly capture the feelings of the honeymoon phase in “Late Night Talking.” Styles debuted this song along with “Boyfriends” at Coachella earlier this year, and it isn’t hard to see why it’s already one of the album’s top songs. For such a catchy and exciting song, lyrics like “I’ve never been a fan of change / but I’d follow you to any place” provide a glance into the more intimate side of growing closer to someone new. 


I’m slightly embarrassed to admit how long it took me to realize that Styles is singing about wine … Yet this song perfectly captures the tipsy sadness that he calls “the grapejuice blues.” Taking on a more intimate and “chill” vibe than the first two tracks, “Grapejuice” opens with Styles counting in a whisper, and he sings most of the song in his falsetto (which, as usual, sounds amazing). Lyrically, Styles could be going in two different directions — when he sings, “There’s just no getting through / without you / a bottle of rouge,” is he in a happy relationship, enjoying a bottle of wine with the person he loves? Or is he mourning a past relationship and using wine to cope? That kind of analysis should probably be left up to the listener, but you’re in for a good time either way. 

“As It Was”

No other song on Harry’s House was a better choice for the first single than “As It Was.” Though we’ve had this song on repeat for a good month before the full release, its ’80s-inspired sound is no less danceable as part of a longer album. “As It Was” gave everyone a glimpse not only into Styles’s personal life, as he sings directly about his relationship with his father, but into the sheer amount of experimentation he has done as an artist over the past three years. The chorus, “You know it’s not the same as it was,” could refer to any number of things; perhaps one of those is his overall sound.


This song is one of my favorites on the album in a way that I can’t entirely describe. Styles slows things down a bit here, going heavy on the synths and alternating between quieter vocal moments and exciting instrumental breaks. Similar to “As It Was,” the upbeat melody music contradicts the situation being described in the lyrics. On first listen, the song sounds romantic as Styles sings, “If I was a bluebird, I would fly to you / You be the spoon, dip you in honey so I can be sticking to you.” But instead, he feels distanced from the person he’s singing about: “Get the picture, cut out my middle / You ain’t got time for me right now.” It’s a little odd to picture Styles as the one doing the chasing instead of the one being chased, and rejection on any level stings, but “Daylight” at least won’t leave you hanging.

“Little Freak”

This song is a little bit like a reverse mullet: party in the front with its title, business (read: sadness) in the back with its content. It starts with lines that could only be describing a banana: “You sit high atop the kitchen counter / Stay green a little while.” This song knocks you off its feet with its honesty and pining. “I’m not worried about where you are / Or who you will go home to / I’m just thinking about you,” he sings. Ouch. The chorus’s potent, desirous and pure yearning is balanced by irreverent verses that talk about spilling beer on Halloween and drinking “red wine and ginger ale” (which, together? Ew). This song is pleasantly surprising — based on the title, I was expecting something more upbeat and dancey, but I’m certainly not disappointed.


If you thought “Little Freak” was sad, you’re definitely not ready for “Matilda.” Seriously, this one’s a tear-jerker — it starts with the line “You were riding your bike to the sound of ‘It’s no big deal,’” and doesn’t let up from there. Styles details the story of the titular Matilda, unsupported by their family throughout childhood and entering adulthood alone, feeling unmoored. It is a powerful illustration of the way trauma can be realized at any time — “Nothing ’bout the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming ’til now” — and can stick with someone forever — “you feel like a piece of you’s dead insidе.” But he also touches on another aspect of family trauma: moving on and creating your own family. In a sentiment that feels distinctly Queer, he ends the song by replacing the line “And not invite your family, ’cause they never showed you love” with “You can start a family who will always show you love.” Styles beautifully acknowledges trauma and disappointment while highlighting the hope inherent in creating a “found family.”


There is always one song on a Styles album that is unequivocally the color red. On Styles’s last album, Fine Line, it was “She”; on Harry’s House, it’s “Cinema.” When I hear this song, I think of a woman in a shiny 1950s convertible racing down a sunny California highway by the ocean, wearing a headscarf and bright red sunglasses. If it’s not that image, it’s a smoky room awash in vague red lighting and a scene akin to Styles’s “Lights Up” music video (if you know, you know). Once again, Styles has given us an excellent song about sex — but it is interspersed with playful naivete. Its repetitions of “Do you think I’m cool too / Or am I too into you?” feel like a knowing wink at the listener — of course we think he’s cool, and there’s no way the person he’s describing could feel any differently.


At this point in the album, Styles holds nothing back. It begins with an irresistible hook of repeated “ba-ba-ba’s” that immediately tells you you should start dancing. While not much happens lyrically — the majority of the song is the repeating line, “Give me all of your love / give me something to dream about” — his vocal range and ability still shine through (seriously, those high notes are no joke). Combine Styles’s belting with the horn-heavy instrumentals, and you get an out-of-body experience. “Daydreaming” is not one to be underestimated. 

“Keep Driving”

Conveniently, “Keep Driving” is the perfect song to blare while driving with the windows down. On the surface, the song doesn’t seem to be about anything — the lyrics read more like a laundry list of random experiences, objects and phrases (“Science and edibles / Life hacks going viral in the bathroom / Cocaine, side boob”). But diving deeper into the album’s theme of love and relationships, we gain a greater understanding of the cryptic and beautiful lyrics. He sings, “Maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two / hash brown, egg yolk, I will always love you,” finding a profound love for the person he’s singing to in something as simple as eating breakfast together. The rest of the song, unfortunately, isn’t all that romantic, as he sings “We held darkness in withheld clouds” and leans into nonsensical lyrics. When Styles asks, “should we just keep driving?” he wants to know if the relationship is worth it anymore. If it were me, I’d want to keep driving just a bit more, if only to preserve such a beautiful moment for a little longer. 


Styles adds to the canon of sad songs about satellites with this song. There is something uniquely lonely and isolated about a satellite — an unmanned piece of machinery circling something else endlessly — that makes it the perfect metaphor for unrequited love. Styles takes full advantage of its poetic potential when he takes on the persona of the satellite: “Spinnin’ out, waitin’ for ya to pull me in.” But he subverts the metaphor in two ways. One, he sings, “I can see you’re lonely down there / Don’t you know that I am right here?” — making the person he’s orbiting the lonely one, not him. Two, the song is, in true Styles fashion, so upbeat that you might miss the inherent longing in its lyrics. Like many of the other songs on the album, it is wildly catchy. It starts slow, but becomes bouncy and funky by the chorus and doesn’t let up. The result is a song that will get stuck in both your head and your heart. 


In this song, Styles recounts the many failings of — you guessed it — boyfriends. To give you a sense of its meaning, he introduced the song at Coachella by saying, “To boyfriends everywhere, fuck you.” In an interview with Zane Lowe, Styles said the song was “both acknowledging my own behavior (and) it’s looking at behavior that I’ve witnessed.” It’s a melancholic, acoustic-guitar-heavy tune that plainly lists the various ways men can mess up in a relationship. The boyfriends of “Boyfriends” run the gamut of bad behavior: they take you for granted, they don’t understand, they don’t tell you where things are heading and they only call you when they don’t want to be alone. Send this one to that shitty boyfriend in your life, whether it’s yours, your sibling’s or your roommate’s, and let Styles do the sorrowful reprimanding and justified lamenting for you. 

“Love of My Life”

Much like the ending of Fine Line, Styles slows it down for the final song of the album. Simple, bare-bones synth chords and brutally honest and confessional-style singing combine to create a perfect finish. The unexpected past tense of this song puts the whole album in perspective: “​​Baby, you were the love of my life.” Styles mournfully reflects on a love lost — “It’s not what I wantеd, to leave you behind” — and what it’s like to only kind of find it again — “I won’t pretend that I’ve been doin’ everything I can / To get to know your creases and your ends / Are they the same?” It makes you wonder about the songs that precede it on the album — were they all about this lost love? This song is slow and sad, just like its subject matter. It’s perfect for a breakup, a good cry or just an introspective moment. Styles rounds out an album full of emotional ups and downs with a song that will force you to just sit there for a moment — and maybe think about the people you love.

Senior Arts Editor Emilia Ferrante can be reached at and Daily Arts Writer Hannah Carapellotti can be reached at