Shawn [Translucent Tan Vinyl] [Barnes & Noble Exclusive] in Bloomington, MN

Shawn Mendes
emerges from his extended hiatus with a rootsy and reflective fifth album, 2024's
Shawn
. Following the release of 2020's
Wonder
,
Mendes
canceled his tour, citing the need to deal with his mental health. The move arrived in the wake of a period of high visibility for the singer, coming off his chart-topping 2018 eponymous album and his high-profile break-up with fellow pop star
Camila Cabello
. Though he stayed somewhat busy, voicing the titular character in the film Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile, he largely stepped away from the spotlight, focusing on rethinking his relationship to himself and his music. The time away proved transformative, and the clearly symbolically titled
finds
embracing a more intimate and folky singer/songwriter vibe, yet one that nonetheless retains much of the emotive pop and R&B that he is known for. Helping him to achieve this earthy vibe is a close cadre of collaborators, including
Scott Harris
Mike Sabath
Nate Mercereau
, and
Eddie Benjamin
.
addresses his hiatus from the start on the opening "Who I Am," singing "I feel pressure from the people that I love, and it hurts/But I know I gotta do it, gotta put me first." From there, he takes us along on his journey of self-reflection, literally opening up an old journal in "Why Why Why," before digging into songs that reveal his inner doubts and hopes about himself and the music industry, relationships, depression, and the general sense that he's working to push an emotional weight off his shoulders. It's a diaristic approach that's well suited to the soulful folk vibe he's going for. It especially comes together on "Nobody Knows," a slowly churning ballad where
' sounds like he's on the verge of tears as he leans into his gospel backing chorus. It's an affecting moment that has a live-in-studio atmosphere, believably evoking the work of artists like
Jeff Buckley
and
Amos Lee
. Much of the album seems to harken back to the rustic, vinyl-era style of production as
frames himself with twangy acoustic guitar, woody bass and percussion, and the occasional violin.
Benjamin
also contributes discreetly bluesy,
Eric Clapton
-esque electric guitar throughout, a style that nicely underscores
' long-standing
John Mayer
influence. That the album ends with a rustic, gospel-tinged rendition of
Leonard Cohen
's "Hallelujah" feels both refreshingly earnest and largely justified by what has come before it. With
has crafted an album of sustained confessional intimacy, one that continually invites you to listen closely. ~ Matt Collar