Niall Horan's 'The Show' Album: Songs Ranked

Busting out of the contemplative middle portion of the album, “Save My Life” provides sonic effervescence, with Horan sounding downright giddy as electric guitar squeals and horn breakdowns assist his whirlwind feelings about the power of love. Although the lyrics here read as purposely broad, Horan and the instrumental arrangement imbue them with plenty of energy; it’s easy to imagine “Save My Life” as a highlight of Horan’s live show, the type of song that forces you to leave your seat.

On an album full of love songs both soaring and serious, closing track “Must Be Love” provides some of the most playful glimpses of Horan: “I got a first degree in being my worst enemy,” he admits, “I got a Ph.D. in always running away,” but he picks himself up for the sky-high hook. The pop-rock gem thrives off of those self-deprecating details, and makes an effort to coalesce around a stomp-call final minute that will be a blast to hear in concert.

Between his time in One Direction and as a solo artist, Horan understands the bond he shares with fans, many of whom have never met him in person — and on “Science,” a tender nod of encouragement toward those struggling with issues like depression, he understands the gravity of lyrics like, “You can dance on your own / It’s okay, ’cause you’re not alone.” The understated, strings-laden song features one of Horan’s most committed vocal takes on the album, with the singer-songwriter prepared to uphold that connection between artist and listener.

“Hope we grow old, but we never grow up,” Horan asserts on “Never Grow Up,” a twinkling mid-tempo nostalgia trip in which the singer-songwriter — who’s currently just a few months shy of 30 — hopes to never join the muted world of adulthood. Horan has written a handful of songs that could serve as the first dance at a wedding, and “Never Grow Up,” with its dreamy romance ready to soundtrack a loving waltz, joins that group admirably.

Even before Horan starts repeating the phrase “I’ll follow you” on the chorus of “You Could Start a Cult,” listeners might be reminded of Death Cab For Cutie’s “I Will Follow You Into The Dark,” another idiosyncratic sing-along composed of a single voice and an acoustic guitar. That’s not to say that “You Could Start a Cult” is derivative — Horan strikes a Ben Gibbard pose with his singular songwriting panache, thinking about cult worship to convey his feelings of romantic devotion.

The warm pop-rock grooves of Made In The A.M. kick back into gear on “Heaven,” the winningly hazy lead single and album opener, on which Horan declares, “Strange light revolves around you, you float across the room / Your touch is made of something heaven can’t hold a candle to.” Those metaphors could trip up a less self-assured singer-songwriter, but Horan sells them, as well as the full-chested melody of the hook.

On the track list to The Show, “If You Leave Me” follows “Heaven” as a worst-case scenario: after exalting a goddess in the lead single, Horan is faced with the prospect of her departure from his life, and knows that he’ll never recover. “If You Leave Me” squeezes some of the same ultra-smooth AM radio juice that Jonas Brothers have used to reignite their studio work, the funk vapors defined by an extended bass solo and some choice falsetto in the post-chorus.

When asked in a recent interview which song on the new album he couldn’t have written until now, Horan selected the title track, a piano-based, mid-pandemic reflection (“If everything was easy … How would we know, how good we have it though?”) that adopts echoing trip-hop percussion during its second verse and boasts subtle string arrangements in the background. The ambition and maturity of “The Show” stand out on the album — this is Horan’s grand reflection on life’s ups and downs, and it’s effectively thought-provoking.

Ladies and gentlemen, is Niall floating in space? “On a Night Like Tonight” is defined by neon post-chorus guitars, trippy synth chords and Horan sounding practically psychedelic as he sings about stars, the Supermoon, summer skin and hearts on fire. Instead of coming across as cringe-y, however, the song positions Horan in a compelling new light: the bridge that concludes the song is among the most urgent moments on the album, and is nicely juxtaposed with delicate, beautifully rendered harmonies.

More than any song on The Show, “Meltdown” nails the interplay between the production details and the overall theme, as the galloping drums, bright synths, doubled harmonies and woo-a-woo-hooo vocal flourishes all fill out the song — a promise of support, for both Horan’s lone subject in crisis, as well as his many fans who need his voice. With a song like “Meltdown,” Horan finds the right path forward for his solo artistry, locking in on an approach that amplifies his natural gifts while also being a fun-as-hell listen.