RAYE is one of the defining voices of current popular music: you may not have heard her name spoken in the same breath as that of Olivia Dean or Lola Young, but one sneak peek at the abundant success of runaway hits ‘Escapism.’ and ‘WHERE IS MY HUSBAND!’ should clue you in that the woman has eyes on her. After gaining a foothold with the independently-released ‘My 21st Century Blues,’ Keen is back with an album that seeks to fully capitalise on her moment in the spotlight. That record— 2026’s ‘THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE.’— is bursting at the seams with inspiration, with ambition, and with light.

With a whopping seventeen tracks and 73 minutes of music, RAYE’s second full-length project is a sprawling epic. The record is not just conceptual but actively self-referential, letting Keen fully off the chain to narrate her own story: the way she reverently introduces Al Green on ‘Goodbye Henry.’ and declares that “I need the band” on ‘Happier Times Ahead.’ lends ‘THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE.’ a feeling of spontaneity, like the whole thing is one giant live performance. In every moment, the album jumps at the opportunity to deliver this tale of resilience and unwavering optimism in a manner most theatrical, right down to our leading lady’s British accent. RAYE’s work feels storied, like a grandiose journey being undertaken— across its runtime, the record’s focus moves from romantic misadventures (as on ‘Beware.. The South London Lover Boy.’ and ‘The WhatsApp Shakespeare.’) to inspirational climaxes (on ‘I Know You’re Hurting.’ and ‘Life Boat.’), winding down with its brightest and most cheerful material— and that tale manages to be deeply cathartic, and ambitious to boot.

This must surely be the most expensive-sounding album of the year so far: it’s honestly impressive that Keen’s vocals, which are an absolute standout among her peers, settle in as just one element making up the record’s bombast. RAYE takes a full four minutes to list the personnel involved in this project on ‘Fin.,’ and their efforts are all devoted to a tracklist stuffed with cinematic orchestral swells, cheery jazz arrangements and an ever-evolving musical palate. Opener ‘I Will Overcome.’ indulges in all the melodramatic string inclusions and glitzy aesthetics of a James Bond theme, and when all is said and done, the song isn’t even the grandest on offer— Hans Zimmer scores single ‘Click Clack Symphony.,’ for goodness sake, and he isn’t pulling his punches. There’s a satisfaction is hearing Keen, who’s musical talents and ambitions are obviously abundant, getting the opportunity to run wild that makes ‘THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE.’ a truly joyous listen, even in its bleakest moments. The use of horns on the tremendous power ballad ‘I Know You’re Hurting.’ and on energetic lead single ‘WHERE IS MY HUSBAND!’ couldn’t be more different: regardless, both are stunning.

But even then, this is an album that refuses to be so easily categorised— in much the same way that RAYE herself balances her classy British R&B persona against the eccentricities of her personality, ‘THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE.’ strikes a careful balance between glossy instrumental arrangements and tasteful modern twists (a la ‘Escapism.’), often weaving the two together. ‘The WhatsApp Shakespeare’ is a devilishly enticing collection of snappy drum hits and sharp vocal harmonies, and most artists would be content to leave the track there: Keen, by contrast, sees fit to transform the number into a cabaret-style show tune, complete with walking bass lines and vintage brass blasts. The record pulls off a similar trick on the following ‘Winter Woman.’ and ‘Click Clack Symphony.,’ with the former throwing Vivaldi samples into an otherwise highly modernised and clean-cut soundscape. Somehow, the album never really loses its ability to surprise you (an impressive feat for a project this lengthy). The funk elements on ‘Skin & Bones.’ and the gospel/soul chops that make up ‘Joy.’ are just some of the dazzling flourishes being thrown our way.

The record has a lot on offer— in a way, it is a grab bag of disparate ideas, even if its pieces have been strung together well. As far as lowlights are concerned, the peppy jazz of ‘I Hate The Way I Look Today.’ pushes past musical theatre into full-blown parody, coming as an awful shock that stamps all over the hopeful mood created by ‘I Know You’re Hurting.’ and ‘Life Boat.’: the latter of those is also an odd inclusion, launching itself into a David Guetta-esque house beat that feels out of place, even as part of an album as ambitious and diverse as this. Where you have to squint to find those flaws, though, the project’s highlights are quite obvious. Single ‘Nightingale Lane.’ is a flawless execution of a classy soul standard, putting the focus on the power and emotion in Keen’s distinctive voice— in the rare instances when she decides to play things completely straight, as she does on ‘Goodbye Henry.’ and ‘Fields.,’ the singer is sure to deliver a host of delightful melodies and warm notes of comfort, befitting of the album’s title.

‘THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE.’ barely even feels like an album, and certainly sets itself apart from the more conventional offerings of RAYE’s peers: it’s the soundtrack to a sung-through musical, the score to a summer blockbuster, the magnum opus of one of popular music’s most exciting rising stars. There’s an abundance of creativity, emotion and heart coursing through this record that speaks to its creator, like no-one except Keen could’ve made it— even if the project can suffer under the weight of its own ambition in places, the overall impression it leaves is one of opulence and majesty. It’s a listen that should give you hope for the state of music at large, that an album like this is seeing such success.