Before he turned 25, Shamir proved he was unafraid of blowing up his career. Despite the justified praise his first full-length Ratchet earned, its neon R&B and pop didn't feel true to him, so he embarked on a path of artistic authenticity. The confessional lo-fi of albums such as Revelations couldn't have been further from Ratchet, but Shamir continued to challenge himself with 2019's Be the Yee, Here Comes the Haw and this, his self-titled seventh album. His most pop-oriented work since Ratchet, Shamir smooths some of his music's edges and brings his hooks forward, but his goals remain the same since leaving the major labels behind. On "Paranoia," he's backed by gargantuan guitars as he stares down fears that feel as real and raw as they did on Revelations. As on that album, the acceptance that being authentic means being willing to let go of some things and some people. This time, however, he channels that message into a spectrum of sounds. Shamir's brand of pop takes on a number of forms, all of which are held together by his endlessly versatile countertenor voice. The banjo and pedal steel on "Other Side" echo Be the Yee's twang; "Pretty When I'm Sad"'s beguiling indie pop is playful, flirtatious, and frustrated all at once; and "Diet" joins witty metaphors with grungy guitars and a sing-song melody. Shamir's other common thread is the anthemic quality to its finest songs. The feeling of liberation is palpable -- and contagious -- on "Running" and "On My Own," a collage of cascading riffs from '90s indie, shimmery synths, and big beats that could sound incongruous coming from many other artists. True to form, Shamir continues to push boundaries as the album comes to a close with the dramatic vocals and strings of "In This Hole." Moments like this make it clear that this album isn't a simple return to pop for Shamir; it's a wide embrace of everything he can do with his music -- at this point in his career, anyway.