Our Rating: 7/10

Some artists chase reinvention.

Olivia Dean chose refinement.

The Art of Loving is not an album built on shock or spectacle. It is built on emotional steadiness. On craft. On the decision to explore love as something complex and negotiated rather than cinematic and chaotic.

From the first track, the tone is clear. Warm keys. Understated grooves. Soul textures that feel lived in rather than retro for fashion’s sake. The production is polished but never sterile. It leaves space for breath, for pauses, for the subtle shifts in her voice that carry more weight than any vocal acrobatics ever could.

Dean has always had charm. Here she has control.

Lyrically, this record sits in the in between spaces. Not the explosive beginning of romance. Not the dramatic end. The middle. The part where you are learning how to show up without losing yourself. She writes about boundaries without turning them into slogans. About desire without surrendering autonomy. About the uncomfortable growth that comes with wanting connection but refusing to shrink for it.

There is maturity here. A quiet insistence that softness is not weakness.

Vocally, she resists over performing. Her delivery feels intentional, measured. She understands when to lean in and when to pull back. That restraint is one of the album’s strengths. It makes the intimate moments land. It also, at times, keeps the record from taking bigger risks. There are points where you want her to push further, sonically or emotionally, into territory that feels less comfortable.

And that is where the 7 out of 10 sits.

This is a strong album. Cohesive. Thoughtful. Crafted with care. But it occasionally plays it safe. It perfects a lane rather than carving a new one. It soothes more than it unsettles.

That said, its impact became undeniable when, in 2026, Olivia Dean won the Grammy for Best New Artist. That moment reframed this record. It marked her shift from rising talent to established voice. The award did not make the album better, but it confirmed that her steadiness, her emotional intelligence, her refusal to shout for attention, had cut through in an industry that often rewards noise.

Looking back now, The Art of Loving feels like a foundation stone. Not explosive. Not revolutionary. But solid. The sound of an artist settling into her identity rather than performing for approval.

And sometimes that quiet confidence is exactly what lasts.