HAIM: Grammyless Girls Once Again

In response to the fragile state of the American experiment, last weekend’s 68th Grammy awards was historic. Celebs donning “ICE OUT” pins made statements as they accepted their awards—“I’m up here as the daughter of an immigrant,” said Olivia Dean, who took home Best New Artist. “No one is illegal on stolen land,” Billie Eilish noted before adding, “Fuck ICE.” Puerto Rican Bad Bunny, whose DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS became the first Spanish-language record to win Album of the Year, similarly used the spotlight to protest. “Before I say thanks to God, I’m gonna say ICE out,” he said, accepting a second award, for Best Música Urbana Album (he won three total), a week before he’ll headline the Super Bowl Halftime Show. “We’re not savage, we’re not animals, we’re not aliens, we are humans, and we are Americans.”

Despite a relatively unsurprising night—Lady Gaga’s career high MAYHEM snatched Best Pop Vocal; Grammy darlings Kendrick Lamar and SZA’s low-key “luther” was Record of the Year; Newcomer Lola Young’s Best Pop Solo award for “Messy” was an unexpected delight—the only snub I remain bitter over is HAIM’s I quit for Best Rock Album. That went to NEVER ENOUGH, a high-energy record from the Baltimore-based quintet Turnstile, but still, I quit’s mastery of form and breadth of sounds made it one of the best albums of last year.

HAIM (Este, Danielle and Alana) comes from the sisters’ surname, meaning “life” in Hebrew. They grew up in Los Angeles and played one of their first gigs at a Jewish deli in Hollywood and were paid in matzah ball soup (an initial band name idea was “The Bagel Bitches”). They were nominated for Best New Artist in 2015, and even for 2021’s Album of the Year for their magnum opus Women in Music Pt. III. I quit, the band’s latest and unfiltered collection of songs, present a return to the attitudes and off-the-cuff lyrics they were known for when they first entered the scene with the millennial-chic Days Are Gone. 

A great HAIM song can feel like a sunny Los Angeles day, and “Relationships,” I quit’s lead single, is no exception. As winter turned to spring last year, the band dissected their equal love and hate of the process of coupling, neglecting to put labels on something that resists easy categorization. “Baby, how can I explain when an innocent mistake turns into seventeen days?” Danielle sings on the chorus. Leaning into R&B as they do here—and on “3AM” from the album prior—results in some of their sweetest songs, but they explore other sounds and vibes on this record, like the fuzzy shoegaze “Lucky stars,” frenetic electronics on “Million years” or even disco on the Alana-led “Spinning.”

Rock is where their hearts are at, though, and I quit seems to never run out of tunes. “Down to be wrong” is a liberating admission of the unknown, stepping into something not because you know it’s best for you but simply because you need to leave your past life behind (“Don’t need you to understand / Don’t know if you can”). The angsty “Everybody’s trying to figure me out” shrugs off misinterpretation during a panic attack (“Everybody’s got their own decisions / And I know that I’ve got mine”). Even when taking risks, like the George Michael sample that opens the album or the mid-2010s YouTube DIY glockenspiel that pervades “Take me back,” it’s clear the Haim girls are having more fun than ever. 

It’s not a particularly friendly title, but “I quit” actually refers to anything that causes strife—bad boyfriends, shame, stressful jobs, negative emotions. “I quit the things that don’t serve me,” Alana told GQ. “I think now, after [making music] for almost 20 years, it finally feels like we can be like, ‘You know what, I don’t give a fuck what that person said about us,’” Danielle added. “I’m done giving a fuck,” Este agreed.

This attitude ran through their show at Merriweather Post Pavillion last fall, where they told a packed crowd to release themselves. “I quit regret,” read a pixelated red banner that matched the album cover and changed throughout the night to represent the theme of each song. “I quit clothing,” “I quit drunk texting,” “I quit bad dates.”

Despite this brash attitude, it’s clear history has the band in its grip. Este broke down during “Cry,” her solo where she succumbs to depression (“I keep on asking God why I can’t stop crying”). And during “Hallelujah,” a painful ballad from their past album that celebrates their relationship in the face of tragedy (best friends’ passing, nasty breakups), they could hardly get through the song without tearing up.

So I quit is more of a hope, a lofty and exciting one that suggests we can always change our life. Reinvention can be right around the corner if you let it. Though this sentiment wasn’t powerful enough to merit a Grammy, HAIM’s time is surely coming. Hopefully they don’t quit music before then.

(Top image credit: Raph_PH (CC BY 2.0))