At this point Sky Ferreira has walked a runway, been on the cover of a few magazines, put out a full-length pop album on a major record label and, at least, has become something of a “college dorm” name. She has also stuck it to the man, made a career for herself on her own terms and maintains a mildly entertaining Instagram. In other words, Ferreira has mostly achieved what many millennial girls dreamed of by the time they entered kindergarten.
 
Sky Ferreira’s long-delayed but greatly anticipated full-length, Night Time, My Time, is here and it sounds, largely, nothing like the meek bedroom shut-in jams of her 2012 Ghost EP, with its laundry list of producers. The delay and the sound change are due to the fact that this time Ferreira took the driver’s seat with most of the executive decisions. But after we get the obligatory “you go girl” salute out of the way, why should we care about another nice face with a pop album? Is there anything here that’s going to sustain this as a go-to album after the media machine makes us go gaga over the next cute thing?
 
In a recent interview, Ferreira told Pitchfork, “This record is really honest. In some ways, I was trying to make it universally relatable, but it’s obviously about myself. I felt like it needed to be personal, otherwise it would’ve sounded like every other pop record.” But her attempt at intimate detail dumping is not going to stop millenials from concocting a lot of personal connection out of this record. We tend to think about ourselves in every scenario ever, and that self-indulgence is not going to end with Night Time, My Time, because there is just no way that as the “me” generation, we could believe that a song like I Blame Myself could only speak to celebrities.
 

 
I Blame Myself is an upbeat powerhouse number for anyone who has fudged up a few times while coming of age in the public spotlight, embarrassing remnants never to be fully eradicated from the internet. When Sky sings, “You think you know me so well/I just want you to realize I blame, I blame, myself/I blame, blame, blame myself/for my reputation,” it’s difficult not to think about that mirror selfie from your middle school Myspace page or all the other awkward phases everyone saw you publicly go through. Nobody Asked Me is another great dose of Chicken Soup for the Justified Thespian’s Soul. “Shaking your head while I try to explain/You say you don’t want to hear me complain/Just try to get my point across/You don’t seem to care if I’m feeling lost.” It’s a great track for blowing off some steam about a job market that doesn’t give, or for a girl with a boyfriend who just doesn’t get it or for the next time the world just doesn’t get it.
 
Ain’t Your Right, I Will and the previously released single You’re Not The One are all sexually assertive numbers that take into account the sensibility that, with sex, there are quite a bit of mistakes and shortcomings to take control of. “Ain’t Your Right” is a panoply for harnessing complete ownership over one’s physical and mental space. “You showed me all my weakness/Now I’m the lonely boy again/You want to sleep it over/We’ll see about that won’t we?”
 
My Night, My Time is a pop album that’s offbeat in its self-awareness and on point with the steep hooks and expansive beats that make pop music pop. You can take it as grungy feminist proneness or you can take it as the modest musings of a twenty-one year old. It’s not Britney, but it is what you might want to listen to when you’re getting ready with a box of Franzia to go have some fun.