DISK(CD) 1. 01. Problem 02. Problem (Dawin Remix) 03. Problem (Noodles & Devastator Remix) 04. Problem (Kassiano Remix)

亞莉安娜·格蘭德-布特拉，是一名美國歌手、詞曲作家及演員。她以寬闊的音域聞名。 亞莉安娜出道於出演2008年的百老匯音樂劇《13》，之後在尼克國際兒童頻道播出的電視連續劇《勝利之歌》及其衍生劇《薩姆和卡特》中飾演角色凱特·瓦倫廷，她還參演過其他戲劇和電視角色，並為一些動畫片和電影配音。

亞莉安娜·格蘭德-布特拉，是一名美國歌手、詞曲作家及演員。她以寬闊的音域聞名。 亞莉安娜出道於出演2008年的百老匯音樂劇《13》，之後在尼克國際兒童頻道播出的電視連續劇《勝利之歌》及其衍生劇《薩姆和卡特》中飾演角色凱特·瓦倫廷，她還參演過其他戲劇和電視角色，並為一些動畫片和電影配音。

The 2025 reworking of Ariana Grande’s lightly conceptual seventh album appends six tracks to its predecessor—and, perhaps crucially, a notable do-over. “intro (end of the world) [extended],” the first of the new cuts, starts simply enough as a reprise of the existential lullaby that opens the original album. But its longing is cut off at the knees when Grande begins describing her desire to “jump into your skin and change your eyes” so she can provide a kind of turbo-charged empathy that reveals the relationship’s darker side. While its pillow-soft sonics and Grande’s resolute singing are gentle, it’s still a jarring lyric to hear right after the album proper’s closer, “ordinary things,” on which Grande's nonna Marjorie tells her granddaughter in no uncertain terms about the signals that a relationship is over. Nonna spoke, Grande listened, that book is closed.

Or is there even a book in the first place? When discussing the beat-forward, hit-packed <i>eternal sunshine</i> with Apple Music’s Zane Lowe around its initial release in 2024, Grande said, “Finding a home in <i>eternal sunshine</i> was a lovely costume to wear,” noting that the “freedom within art” was present because of the endless possibilities for sources—personal truths, films (like <i>Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind</i>, the surrealistic love story that provides the album’s title), high concepts. With the release of <i>Wicked</i>, Ariana's big-screen coming-out party in late 2024, Grande had reached new heights of celebrity—and with that newfound status, her personal life was under further scrutiny.

Over the rest of <i>brighter days ahead</i>, Grande is playfully opaque, making a reference to “holding space” on the simmering “warm,” which turns Grande’s vocals into a neon-lit cloud settling over glossy synth skyscrapers, and declaring “I’m still the same but only entirely different” on “Hampstead,” a reimagining of the barroom-piano-led last-call lament. That’s only one spot where Grande’s voice pushes into exciting new territory: “dandelion,” a lusty expression of desire, spins out of a drowsy trumpet line, its looped horn and sampled trap drums adding heat.

“Might fuck around and elevate my expectations,” Ariana muses on the chorus of “past life,” a low-lit synth-R&B cut. As with her other releases, <i>brighter days ahead</i> shows how her attention to detail and desire to evolve have resulted in a singular body of work that, even if it’s playing coy about where the public Grande ends and the private Ari begins, is utterly her own.

The 2025 reworking of Ariana Grande’s lightly conceptual seventh album appends six tracks to its predecessor—and, perhaps crucially, a notable do-over. “intro (end of the world) [extended],” the first of the new cuts, starts simply enough as a reprise of the existential lullaby that opens the original album. But its longing is cut off at the knees when Grande begins describing her desire to “jump into your skin and change your eyes” so she can provide a kind of turbo-charged empathy that reveals the relationship’s darker side. While its pillow-soft sonics and Grande’s resolute singing are gentle, it’s still a jarring lyric to hear right after the album proper’s closer, “ordinary things,” on which Grande's nonna Marjorie tells her granddaughter in no uncertain terms about the signals that a relationship is over. Nonna spoke, Grande listened, that book is closed.

Ariana Grande is used to being in the spotlight, but over time, she’s gotten savvy at playing it. The pop star’s seventh studio album <I>eternal sunshine</I>—a lightly conceptual riff on the head-spinning 2004 film starring Jim Carrey, of whom Grande has said she’s a lifelong fan—feels like a mind game itself, blurring the lines between real-life references and theatrical bits. It arrives in the middle of a whirlwind tabloid-packed stretch—Grande married, divorced, and scored a starring role in Hollywood’s big-screen adaptation of <I>Wicked</I>—and she knows fans have questions. What’s true? What’s real? Ari gives a lot of things on this album, but answers aren’t one of them, a cunning reminder of how little transparency celebrities actually owe us.

In an interview with Zane Lowe, Grande leans into the project’s thematic murkiness. “true story,” she says, is “an untrue story based on all untrue events,” and when asked about her own experience with the Saturn return, an astrology milestone referenced in the album’s only interlude, she shrugs. “It was chill. Nothing changed. Pretty uneventful.” She says she finds freedom in art because “you can really pull from anywhere,” and she describes the film as another “lovely costume” to wear. Her answers have flickers of defiance that feel like power. Whoever said albums had to be tidy, or true? “It doesn’t have to be an everlasting love story,” she tells Lowe. “Love is complicated. Showcasing both sides of it is what I tried to [do].”

If there’s one thing these tracks make clear, it’s that she’s still Ari on the mic—she’s still hitting those high highs (“eternal sunshine”); still finding release on the dance floor (“yes, and?”); still sifting gold out of ’90s R&B (“the boy is mine”), a sequel to the leaked 2023 track “fantasize.” Her favorite? “imperfect for you,” a tribute to the friends who make up her inner circle. “We’re so lucky to have loved ones who are accepting and real with us no matter what,” she says. “We live in a time where everything is boiled down, but that song demands room for nuance, humanness, and complexity.”

Asked by Apple Music to name their favorite song from their film adaptation of <i>Wicked</i>, co-stars Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo either cannot or will not decide. Eventually Erivo caves and offers “I’m Not That Girl” as a representation of her character, Elphaba, while Grande counters with a pick for her character, Glinda: “No One Mourns the Wicked.” Then they agree on a joint pick: “Dancing Through Life.”

Of course, they shouldn’t have to choose, and anyone who loves the musical—whether old fan or new convert—shouldn’t either. The good news for fans of <i>Wicked</i> is that the movie soundtrack doesn’t mess much with its source material. And if the performances feel especially dynamic for such a blockbuster production, it’s because they were mostly taken from the on-set recordings themselves—something Grande says she and Erivo were adamant about.

“It’s funny because I came home and I made an album and I felt the muscles in my throat singing differently,” she says. “I think of course we can take off one hat and put on another anytime we’d like, but when it comes to giving your voice over, the body creates certain habits.” The result is a soundtrack that feels unusually dynamic for such a high-profile production, and less burdened by studio zhuzh, too.

The story—based on Gregory Maguire’s novel <i>Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West</i>—remains both clever and contemporary, an underdog narrative that turns a perceived villain into an object of empathy, an allegory of otherness that makes us see in the differently colored Elphaba someone as deserving of love as we imagine ourselves. Witty (“Popular”), dramatic (“Defying Gravity”), and probingly bittersweet (“I’m Not That Girl”), these are some of the most beloved Broadway songs of the early 21st century, delivered with care.