Despite clocking in at just 41 seconds, the opening song is a revealing vignette of the journey Dean is about to take the listener on. Birds tweet in the distance and strings swell as Dean muses that hard-won lessons about relationships are valuable lessons all the same: “It wasn’t all for nothing / Yeah, you taught me something.” Pull up a pew, she’s about to spill…

On an album that smartly pushes Dean’s sound and songwriting forward, “Let Alone The One You Love” feels a touch too familiar and muted compared to the LP’s stronger tracks. That said, Dean’s vocals are particularly mesmeric on this one, even if the song floats by without leaving much of a mark.

The Art of Loving’s closing track arrives with a level of perspective. Over a gentle acoustic riff, Dean recounts the ways she’s witnessed love, from the long-lasting relationships, to the fleeting moments of romance on the London Underground which ends up missing “a stop or two,” such is its power. It’s a woozy, understated finale to an otherwise head-spinning LP.

Dean’s subtle piano playing is at the core of most songs on The Art of Loving, and harks back to some of her earliest material. “Lady Lady,” an impactful piano ballad, is written from the perspective of someone who has altered their personality to suit a new partner, but is left directionless when the relationship crumbles: “All the things I couldn’t live without / I don’t need ‘em now.”

We’re still some way off the next James Bond flick – the titular character is yet to be cast – but Dean could well be in the running for singing the franchise’s next theme tune. That’s if “Loud” if anything is so to go by, which features Dean’s gorgeous vocals holding their own amidst a swelling orchestra, and a heady mix of danger and intrigue.

The Art of Loving was never going to be a straight-forward fairytale love story, because no relationship ever is. “Something Inbetween” acknowledges the tough moments in the middle, when the end isn’t inevitable, but not far off. “They say the grass is green where you water it,” she ponders to herself, “But I don’t know If I can grow here.”

Throughout The Art of Loving, Dean and her producer Zach Nemone craft a soundscape that perfectly suits Dean’s aesthetic and talents: “A Couple Minutes,” for example, sings from the same hymn sheet as Clairo’s Charm, and is imbued with that smokey soul sound. Leon Michels, leader of the El Michels Affair and producer of Charm is featured on The Art of Loving, and his influence is keenly felt on this woozy late album cut.

Many have tried to ape the revivalist sound of Winehouse’s Back to Black, and fewer still stick the landing. “Close Up” succeeds by not trying too hard, and allowing moments to build subtly, like the horn section’s pomp in the chorus, and the retro-sounding piano riff that circles through the track.

In little over a month, “Man I Need” has cleared 100 million streams on Spotify and looks set to be her breakthrough hit in the U.S. On this track, Dean opts for the same ‘70s soft-rock-hued palette as Sabrina Carpenter, but is less pithy in her pursuit of a potential lover: ‘I kinda like it when you call me wonderful,” she purrs, “Whatever the type of talk it is, come on then…” 

Dean joins the list of pop girls looking to bossa nova for inspiration, following Billie Eilish and Laufey’s forays into the effortlessly cool genre. “So Easy to Fall in Love” is perhaps the most forthright attempt at reviving Astrud Gilberto’s impactful and achingly beautiful vocals alongside a lithe percussion section.

“Baby Steps” is The Art of Loving’s leading candidate for a post-release hit. It begins with the same hazy soundscape as Marvin Gaye’s “Inner City Blues (Makes Me Wanna Holler),” the ambience of Dean and her band arriving at their instruments and checking they’re in tune. But the central refrain, where Dean drags out the song’s title (“Ba-ba-ba-baby steps”) into a sweet little melody, is remarkably effective. Expect this to spark its own TikTok trend as fall’s restorative process takes over.

“Nice to Each Other” kicked off The Art of Loving era back in June and feels like an atypical lead single: the opening guitar riff is gently strummed, the drums scarcely noticeable, and Dean’s vocals, even in the chorus, barely rise above a gentle sigh. It’s immensely effective though, and asks the listener to lean in to hear the full story of a souring relationship. But it’s one that Dean still holds a glimmer of hope that it could work out: “So can we say we’ll never say the classic stuff? / Just show it,” she asks.