Cherry Analysis 🍒
Chérry, the catalyst. Harry's prettiest baby she is, but concurrently catalytic — for the backing voice peppers the track like the low-hanging fruit of a cherry tree, and the harvested details amp the appetite to indulge in the Fine Line album. And, we've only hit the surface of this piece's mastery, too often overlooked due to its divisive ending, which is tragic. The song's title not only builds on the artist's evergrowing fruit charcuterie but is ridiculously close to the French translation for my dearest and/or my baby, ma Chérie — connecting the plea we hear him beg perpetually.
Harry's prettiest baby. A painting of vulnerability, humanity, and storytelling. It's that tapestry of memories — though messy and imperfect from certain corners of the exhibit hall — that one can't stop themselves from luxuriating in. Even as it causes nothing but agony to experience devastating heartbreak all over again. It's a heart song, the type of song that people feel in their hearts before even making it to the end. The pain of still being in love with someone who's already moved on, and stuck watching them be their best with another. Masking the pain in feeble attempts, but unraveling as it comes out in bursts unwarned.
Here's a deep dive into Harry Styles' Cherry, from a poet. And one of my favorites to praise. Below Sunflower, though. Of course.🍒
Rhymes, Patsy Cline, & Word to the Wise
Oh boy, you get to have fun with the poet today! Because first things first, let's talk rhyme schemes — such an essential pillar in the structure of this piece, that far too many don't appreciate. Or, maybe they just don't see it like the poets do — but, that's why I'll explain it all, detail by little detail. Further down, in the ever-notable LYRIC PULL APART section, there's some color coding going on. I personally have always found it easier to understand and identify rhymes visually — and making it clear and visible to you is so important. It seems like something relatively simple to an untrained eye, but, you see, that's the catch in it all — it's a way of speaking without directly speaking, as in the piece he tries to suppress feelings while pain, jealousy, and heartbreak bubble under the surface.
Note that the chorus' rhyme scheme remains consistent, like a control group, an anchor to keep him stable on the ground. This coincides with the language in the chorus being straightforward, while the verses can be less cohesive, allowing room for the writer to play around in his storytelling. This is where the consuming emotions are bubbling under his surface, which mirrors how, as the verses move along, the rhyme scheme gets weaker (more conversational, more casual, more messy) in contrast. Naturally, as we hit each part of the song, I'll give you greater detail, but I wanted to offer some summarization to warm you up to the idea. Yeah?
For a long while, Cherry has had this association in my mind with Patsy Cline's She's Got You. Cline's song is about a woman yearning and mourning over a lost love by looking back through old photographs and possessions that remind her of what's been lost. The drastically too short piece is a lament about how someone else has the love she lost or the love she let go, and all that remains are these small things and small memories. I believe Harry's piece — especially amplified in the chorus — holds a similar sentiment and story. However, Cherry seems adamant about focusing on just one little thing that meant so much to him — the nickname: dearest, baby, chérie. He selfishly wants to keep this exclusive to himself all while watching the other give their love to someone else. He doesn't want to lose it like he lost them. Both of these pieces are framed and executed eloquently, and I adore them both, so maybe it's only natural for me to draw a connecting line — but I wanted to mention it anyhow.
And, lastly, a word to the wise. I know this piece to be one of Harry's that gets caught in discourse routinely, whether there's those name-dropping or others' encroaching nature with theorizations. Here's a gentle reminder that we will not engage in that nature here. Given, that the principle I'm about to discuss applies to every song I analyze from Harry's collection and beyond, but, for some reason, it felt extra fitting to say it here especially.
A fundamental rule of songs and their accompanying analyses is that songs are practically never about anyone other than the songwriter and/or the speaker. Sure, other people might be included as a vehicle to conceptualize feelings, ideas, or experiences to add more detail — but it's never solely about the other. Think about it this way — when one's watching musical theater, a character onstage will be singing about a character offstage, but the audience's focus is on the character onstage amid their monologue. Even though the character is singing about someone else, the subject is not in view, so your focus shouldn't be on the other.
Once one comes to this realization, seeing this song without a clouded lens, the experience becomes much more nuanced. Bringing it back in, the big picture of Cherry is an internal struggle — and the storyline just supports the big picture, all the little details that inject life into it. Little supportive pillows uplift the core idea. It's not about the ex-lover in question, and not about the action, but, rather, it's about the writer's reaction! Get it? Good! :)
Lyric Pull Apart
[INTRO] Coucou
A hello to the listeners — looking into the translation, multiple possibilities come up, but given the context, I'm sticking to the intention of a greeting. Coucou leans more toward an informal greeting, between those familiar, which helps solidify an existing relationship between our speaker and the haunting voice present behind him. This voice is intrusive, following him throughout, as he's using the song as a processing stage. Attempting to push down and drown his feelings about the situation. This conclusion can also be discovered in how Cherry has a conflicting feel to its instrumentals — happy and sad together, at once. Could even go forth and say "balancing on a fine line", eh? Representative of the conflict present in the speaker himself, but gosh, I'm just getting too ahead of myself now. Gotta leave you something to discover, don't I?
[CHORUS] Don't you call him baby We're not talking lately Don't call him what you used to call me
As mentioned prior, the color indicates a rhyme scheme, and the chorus rhyme scheme will remain consistent. A control group, an anchor to keep him stable on the ground. But, now let's grant a deeper perspective into that. The repetition of the chorus, of this controlled rhyme scheme, is a way of the speaker trying to pull himself back from his own disaster. Trying to calm himself and keep a hold of his emotions as they bubble — the constant battle of these emotions to push to the frontlines is executed in the verses, and their differing rhyme schemes.
[VERSE 1] I, I confess I can tell that you are at your best I'm selfish so I'm hating it I noticed that There's a piece of you in how I dress Take it as a compliment
The first half of the verse holds strong to its rhyme structure, as listeners witness a moment more petty than pathetic through words. Sure, the speaker's not happy, far from it, but refuses to admit (directly) that he's missing them. The rhyme structure in the first half is stronger & more routine in comparison to the second half, resembling the speaker holding himself together more. Best and Confess (green) share the "es" sound, the main rhyme, with Tell That and Selfish (purple) sharing an "el" sound, the supporting rhyme. The purple emphasizes the green!
I, I confess / I can tell that you are at your best: The realization that someone you cared about so deeply is now at their best with someone who isn't you. A confession to oneself about the realization, and letting it hit right in the heart and the pit of the stomach. This line really hurts to me. Lyrically, a relatively simple line. But meaning? Surpasses. And this supports my notion that Cherry is focused on an internal battle rather than the person he's referencing.
I'm selfish so I'm hating it: This admittance is another piece in speaking to one's own internal structure and echoes 2017's Woman where he also admitted his jealous tendencies, and being selfish in said jealousy. Once more, we as listeners have found ourselves as spectators to the speaker's internal battle about the hurt he's experiencing time and time again.
The second half of the verse is when some unraveling occurs, coinciding with the admission of how much of an impact the other has had on him. The existing rhyme scheme continues with the "es" sound (green), with Noticed and Dress, creating a flow from one feeling to the next. Then, there's a playing rhyme that starts at the end of the second line, emphasizing the "et" sound in It and Compliment (blue) — but, the rhyme is interrupted subtly by the n. This mimics the speaker's feelings as both he and the rhyme begin to crack. In addition, the secondary rhyme (purple) is lost, creating a weaker structure than previously.
I noticed that / There's a piece of you in how I dress: There's an eloquence to this line, and I often struggle to put into words just how deep my admiration goes for it — guess I'll start with how I love when scenes are painted with lyrics. Like, you can picture so much within one singular line. Whether an accessory or piece of clothing they left at his house. Whether it's watching one's style soon melt into one's significant other's. Whether — delving into the more abstract — getting dressed in his normal routine and there are still pieces of them in every step. And, to take it further in the symbolic and abstract direction, one can even spark up a debate on how the way one dresses connects to identity — therefore, he's speaking of how there are still pieces of them left in himself.
Take it as a compliment: Naturally, this is a complimenting line to the lyric that precedes it. Take it as a compliment that I'm thinking of you still, which comes off sweet with a lingering tingle of that pettiness rooted in pain. Which — naturally, I'm going to keep reminding — coincides with the rhyme structure, with Compliment being the one to alter the rhyme (blue) [subtly]. And, with that being the case, the "I'm so happy you're so happy" façade is slipping down to reveal the truth as the internal struggle peaks to the exterior.
[CHORUS] Don't you call him baby We're not talking lately Don't call him what you used to call me
A return to the chorus, the control rhyme scheme, the centering point. An anchor. With the first iteration of the chorus, I focused on the rhyme scheme, so in this second iteration, let's dive into the words said themselves.
Don't you call him baby: Lovers call each other baby. The realization hits now, how the other person is out and happy with someone else. The realization hits now, how deeply he doesn't want to share this one thing he can still grasp onto from what they had before. It's a moment of selfishness, childishness, and a moment of not wanting to share what meant the most to him. The intimacy. And, in addition, as mentioned previously, the French word for dearest and/or baby is chérie, which is artistically simplified into what we know as Cherry.
We're not talking lately: An admission to himself, within his internal struggle. A realization they haven't been connecting as they had once before, and they're both at fault for that. However, in the tone, it feels like the speaker is placing the blame on himself a little more, as I have interpreted it. In whatever way one hears it, the mentality of blame shifts as the listener travels deeper into the album, to To Be So Lonely, but that's just a little teaser there.
Don't call him what you used to call me: A lyric connected to the first line, emphasizing a plea, asking them not to bestow upon their new love the terms of endearment that were once reserved for him. And, there's a constant circle back to this, which indicates a central motif. And, further revealing — pulling back the façade — the speaker's difficulty in accepting his ex-lover finding comfort in someone else's arms.
[VERSE 2] I, I just miss I just miss your accent and your friends Did you know I still talk to them?
The second verse's shift is a dramatic one. Something in the air feels different after the second iteration of the chorus has rounded. There's no more beating around the bush, or hiding behind a fake happiness for this person who's moved on — things are now being laid out on the table. And, there's almost a little petulance to it that's very complementary to the song, with a taunting sound to it.
I, I just miss / I just miss your accent and your friends: Now he admits to missing them, and admits that there's something to miss in his life now that they've parted ways. But, it's always in the details, you know? The things you'll hold onto. Your accent. Friends they bonded with together, or your friends to which they introduced him. There are assumptions of carrying out the rhyme scheme that preceded it, with the "es" sound (green). In the first verse, we had Confessed, Best, Noticed, and Dress. Now, in the second verse, the expectation is for Miss and Friends to follow suit. However, that's not the case — the rhyme has drifted away from the "es" sound. Miss is overpowered by the vowel change, and Friends is interrupted by nd. Once more, we're met with rhyme structures falling apart subtly, which only supports the big picture of the song, as the speaker crumbles and loses his poker face.
Did you know I still talk to them?: I love how I've always heard this line, like a child taunting. Almost a bit like... hmm, how can I describe it? Like, you can't take them away from me. Like you took everything else. It's just another added aspect to what he's going through, the feelings experienced, and the overarching internal struggle present. Rather than continue to hold it all in, he wrote a song about it. A beautiful one, at that.
[BRIDGE] Does he take you walkin' round his parents' gallery?
Oh, this bridge. How I adore it.
In the bridge, stylistically, the taunting note is held tightly, but there's a return to the rhyme scheme of the chorus. The controlled structure, the anchoring point to bring the speaker back from an emotional overwhelm (as categorized by the rhyme scheme crumbling in the verses). On a surface level, the lyric seems so simplistic, and will frankly remain so if one refuses to look into the details. I believe it carries a lot of weight, especially within the context of Cherry's storytelling. Even though the line is directed at someone outside the speaker — and one can just picture it said in a heckling whine — it's more telling of that internal struggle over anything. That big picture of Cherry to keep returning to.
Throughout Cherry, as listeners and spectators, we are experiencing and investing in the emotions the speaker must work through in the song's duration (and continued throughout the album, naturally). He's not only admitting to that post-breakup stage that everybody goes through but pretends that they don't — the bitterness that lingers like a cherry that's turned — but he really wrote a whole fucking song about it. He's sinking into the turmoil of this, into the pettiness, admitting that he is not free from this overwhelming bitterness and envy of an ex-lover who could be happy without you. And, something that rings true in the FINE LINE album as a whole, it's a song where we witness the (coping) method of capturing such an unpleasant feeling and transforming it into something lovely through the love language of music. For himself more than anybody else.
[CHORUS] Don't you call him baby We're not talking lately Don't call him what you used to call me Don't you call him baby (Coucou) We're not talking lately Don't call him what you used to call me (Coucou)
Here we find ourselves again, back to the stabilizing rhyme scheme of the chorus. With the bridge returning to this standard of rhyme, it flows beautifully in the ear, but there's a symbolic/metaphoric factor in play. He's not trying to hide it anymore, he's allowing himself to embrace his bitterness, his green face of envy at seeing someone he cared deeply about move on with their life without him in it. And, in companionship with the bridge, the direct address to his lover's new partner is poignant and continues the pattern of the chorus' language being more straightforward.
[OUTRO] "Coucou! Tu dors? Oh, j'suis désolée… Bah non… Non, c'est pas important… Ouais, on a été à la plage, et maintenant on— Parfait! Allez!"
Okay, here we go. The ever-controversial voice note. If you aren't going to indulge in this section of Cherry's analysis with an open mind and heart — no clouded lenses — you can feel free to skip over, but I really invite you, genuinely, to remain and hear me out. Personally, I like it, love it even, and don't understand the relentless arguing that seems to fester from it. It's most important to bring in the context for full appreciation. And, to me, we discover that in the screams preceding the addition.
The final choruses are interspersed with this voice, her voice, alongside his screams. Pay attention to the screams, and each one is a reaction to the sound of her voice, always in this intrusive manner. This inclusion of the voice from the very beginning of the song and throughout serves as a subtle foreshadowing of where we stand now, the voice note. But, I digress — this series of screams, and the final, most agonizing scream is in response to silence. This lover he's been hung up on, the one he's agonizing over for moving on without him, is gone from him. And that idea hurts more than all else. Through the pettiness and anger we witness, there's also an underlying sadness, and it pushes to the foreground in those screams.
Then, in comes the voice note, echoing, very neutral, can be from any day — it's the final memory he's holding onto. All he has left, even the music — representative of his Hail Mary coping attempt — fades. He can't bring himself to get rid of it, so much so that he decides that a song composed from this inner turmoil couldn't be complete without it included. My interpretation? It's like not wanting to delete/remove the few reminders you have left of a person, even if they bring you pain to see them. In that final scream — that scream to the void of silence where there used to be something — he scrambles for a single memory, to let himself wallow rather than be stagnant in silence he never heard so quiet before. But, his wallowing is now compromised with catharsis. And, in all this, that is the beauty of Cherry. Harry's prettiest baby.
Thank you for reading, you’re absolutely incredible! If there are any songs you’d like me to make an analysis of, please send your request to my inbox! along with any questions or insights you might have yourself!
