Casey McQuillen’s single “Better” arrives not with a bang, but with the quiet, decisive click of a well-made lock securing a door. It’s pop music, certainly, groomed and gleaming, yet beneath the surface bubbles a fierce kind of self-possession that’s less about demanding attention and more about curating who gets past the velvet rope of your own contentment. Coming from someone known for empowerment anthems and tackling bullying, this feels like the internal monologue after the external battle is won.
The song is essentially a statement of standards, exceptionally high ones at that. It’s the sound of someone who genuinely enjoys their own company, their own life, and isn’t willing to disrupt that peace for anything less than spectacular. Physical attraction? Please. Minimal effort disguised as charm? Next. It puts forth this idea – almost radical in a world pushing connection at all costs – that being alone and fulfilled is the baseline, and any potential partner needs to be a significant value-add, a genuine enhancement.
There’s a clarity to McQuillen’s soft vocals that cuts through the polished production. It reminds me, strangely, of the stillness in the air right after you’ve perfectly sharpened a set of pencils – that poised potential, clean and ready. It’s not aggressive, this insistence on quality, but it’s utterly unyielding. The track doesn’t wallow or plead; it simply lays out the terms with unnerving calm.
It leaves you feeling… tidier, somehow. Cleared of relational clutter. A reminder that needing less often means you deserve more.
So, the song sets the bar incredibly high – but what happens if someone actually clears it? That’s the part it doesn’t tell you, leaving a curious space hanging in the air.
