Ariana Grande’s seventh studio album, “Eternal Sunshine,” offers a translucent view to who Grande is as an artist and an individual. 

Grande once again calls on producer Max Martin, producer of Taylor Swift’s “Red” and Adele’s “30.” The effervescent album is transparent with personal hardships, sharing her experience with the collapse of one relationship and entering the hopeful beginning of another. At the same time, Grande conveys the light she hopes to share with the world, complete with trap beats mixed with warm bass and soaring melodies.

The album begins with the dreamy-yet-existential “intro (end of the world)” listing a series of anxious questions over an understated guitar strum and faux-romantic strings. This track is followed with the triumphant “bye,” announcing her breakup with exhilarating riffs, expressing the satisfaction of realizing who she is with lyrics like “I’m taking what’s mine” and “I’m stronger than I think.”

The album’s single “yes, and?” suggested the record would entail a slew of Madonna-inspired, catwalk-strutting dance floor pop. However, the exuberance in “bye” nearly doubles back on itself as it is followed by title track “eternal sunshine,” a song I have yet to stop listening to. This track features back-and-forth echoes that exemplify Grande’s racing mind as she grapples with loss, drama and divorce. 

The transcendent “supernatural” is true to Grande’s pop roots. Cosmic and breathy, this track seems to pick up where 2015’s “Break Free” left off…with a sexier touch. Grande twists the knife with her songwriting with edgy and vengeful “true story,” calling out those who flagrantly spread disinformation while boasting on her acting prowess: “I’ll play whatever part you need me to…and I’ll be good in it, too.”

On the track “the boy is mine,” expectations were high as it was assumed to be a play on the original Brandy and Monica track. Though the track is glossy, the chorus soon becomes monotonous, there’s only so much the track can do to keep it interesting. It also becomes difficult for the song to maintain its luster once you realize the song was written about the man who played SpongeBob on Broadway.

The reminiscent and hopeful “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)" reminds me of the song that cues the closing credits of a space-age coming-of-age film. During the bridge, the instrumentals are stripped, leaving room for Grande’s vocals in the final bridge to pierce your heart. This specific moment on the record made me want to go outside, feel the sun on my face and decide life is good again. Seriously, that outro? I would be disappointed if that isn’t what you hear when you enter heaven.

Grande’s lullaby-like “i wish i hated you” features gentle arpeggios as she laments on her exes. This track features a peak in the album’s transparency, as we hear Grande’s voice break during the song’s outro. Grande then slows things down with the waltz-adjacent “imperfect for you.” 

The album closes with wisdom from Grande’s grandmother on “ordinary things”: “Never go to bed kissing goodnight (…) and if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, you’re in the wrong place, get out.” After years of experimental albums, milestone achievements and pitfalls in life, Grande enters a new decade of her life with an album that is finally as sure of itself as she is.

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