Rachel Chinouriri talks her party girl past on ‘I Think I Spoke Too Soon’
There is a difference between living a life and performing it. For singer-songwriter Rachel Chinouriri, the latter period involved a lot of late nights, excellent drinks, and a healthy dose of self-doubt. In the past, she embraced the glittering chaos of the party scene, often chasing the temporary high of a night out while ignoring the anxious residue that followed.
She reflected on that time, acknowledging the cycle: going out to immerse herself in fun, only to wrestle with the consequences the next morning. It was a period of necessary, if messy, exploration. When she began to interrogate this pattern, she started asking deeper questions about what she was truly trying to avoid through the drinking and partying—was it losing friends, avoiding popularity, or perhaps, most profoundly, confronting the person she was becoming?
This period of intense self-inspection eventually catalyzed her second album, I Think I Spoke Too Soon. This record became the soundtrack to untangling the party girl identity, revealing the layers beneath the facade of excess through a lens of euphoric nostalgia and honest vulnerability.
The album’s opening track, The Good Fight, perfectly captured this journey. It highlighted the internal conflict, exploring the dynamic of enjoying a submersion while simultaneously questioning why she sought that immersion in the first place. Chinouriri admits to wrestling with the desire to pull herself out of the experience, realizing that the hangover wasn’t just physical; it was a catalyst for change.
Across the twelve tracks of the album, Chinouriri chronicled a shift in self-perception, moving from outward relationships—with family, partners, and the world—to an inward focus. It was a journey that acknowledged the reality of her busy, successful career, juxtaposed with the realization that excessive drinking was not adding to that chaos. She found a powerful rationale for change: choosing to prioritize her well-being and relationships over alcohol.
On the track Broken Chair, Chinouriri sang a poignant reflection on this dichotomy: I love drinking till it’s over / You all love me till I’m sober / I’m walking home the morning after / Your friendly neighbourhood disaster. This song beautifully encapsulates the feeling of chasing euphoria only to face reality.
Despite the introspective nature of the album, Chinouriri embraced the experience. She didn’t view her earlier years as a detour but as a necessary part of her journey. That era was also marked by undeniable success—two BRIT nominations, a sold-out headline UK tour, and opening slots for massive acts like Sabrina Carpenter and Florence + The Machine. It was a time of hard-won achievements, even while navigating complex external categorizations of her music.
The sonic landscape of I Think I Spoke Too Soon is drenched in a relatable, danceable energy, mixing euphoric nostalgia with contemporary sounds. Tracks like Pretty Girls offer an ode to womanhood backed by kinetic drum machines, inviting listeners to feel the moment. Chinouriri sought more upbeat sounds, wanting to move beyond slow, sad songs into a space where she could genuinely dance and shout on stage.
Ultimately, the album became an anthem of liberation. When asked how she hoped her devoted fanbase of Darlings would feel upon hearing it, Chinouriri offered a simple, exhilarating answer: Freedom. It is a powerful declaration that you can embrace your past experiences, acknowledge the chaos, and still find the space to dance, celebrate, and move forward without apology.