Venus

There is a sense, across Venus, that Zara Larsson is no longer chasing pop perfection, but shaping it on her own terms. Her fourth studio album arrives on 9 February 2024 as a confident recalibration, a record that leans into glossy dance-pop while allowing glimpses of something more personal beneath the surface.

Larsson frames the album as a “full-on rollercoaster ride of emotion”, and it largely delivers on that promise. The highs are immediate and unapologetic. “Can’t Tame Her” sets the tone early, all shimmering synths and forward momentum, a European airplay hit that captures her instinct for clean, euphoric pop. “On My Love”, her collaboration with David Guetta, follows suit, scaling that same emotional rush into something broader and more communal, its chart success reflecting its reach.

Elsewhere, Venus stretches between these polished peaks and more reflective moments. The album’s themes of love and heartbreak are expected, but it is the quieter nods to family and friendship that give it shape. These songs aim for intimacy, though they do not always land with the same clarity as the record’s brighter moments. Critics noted as much on release, praising Larsson’s vocal performance while questioning the weight of its slower cuts.

Still, what holds the album together is its sense of intent. Larsson takes a more active role in defining her sound, working with Casey Smith, Rick Nowels and Danja to build what she described as a foundation that allows her to move freely between styles. The result is a record that does not settle into one lane, but moves between dance-pop, balladry and Scandipop sheen with a deliberate, if occasionally crowded, energy.

Visually, Venus leans into its mythology. The artwork, inspired by Sandro Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus, positions Larsson as both subject and architect of her own image. It is a fitting parallel for a record concerned with control, identity and self-definition.

Commercially and critically, the response was broadly favourable. With a Metacritic score of 72, the album was recognised for its boldness and sense of fun, even as it drew mixed reactions for its tonal shifts. Yet the lasting impression is less about cohesion and more about presence.

Venus is not Larsson refining her formula. It is her expanding it, embracing both the spectacle and the sentiment of pop, and finding a space somewhere in between.