Honestly, walking into The Great Impersonator, I didn't expect to feel like I was reading someone's medical records and their diary at the same time. It’s heavy. Halsey has always been a bit of a shapeshifter, but this project is different. It’s not just about aesthetics or cool music videos.
She was sick. Really sick.
While most of the world was catching up on her life through Instagram snippets, Halsey was grappling with a double-whammy diagnosis: Lupus (SLE) and a rare T-cell lymphoproliferative disorder. This isn't just "celebrity tired." It’s "I might not be here to finish this" kind of stuff. She basically wrote this album thinking it would be her final statement. That kind of pressure does something to the art. It strips away the polish and leaves something raw, jagged, and sometimes a little bit uncomfortable to look at.
The Concept Behind The Great Impersonator
The core idea is a massive "what if?" If Halsey had debuted in the 70s, what would she sound like? What about the 90s?
She spent weeks before the release transforming into icons like Dolly Parton, Stevie Nicks, and David Bowie. It was a masterclass in makeup and branding, sure, but the songs actually back it up. She isn’t just wearing a wig; she’s trying to inhabit the soul of these artists to see if her own story still makes sense in their shoes.
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It’s about survival.
She’s mentioned feeling like she was "impersonating" herself because her body felt so foreign after getting sick. If your own skin doesn't feel like home anymore, why not try on someone else's for a while?
The Icons She Chose
- Marilyn Monroe ("Only Living Girl in LA"): A haunting opener that tackles the isolation of fame and the weirdness of being a "special talent" while your body is failing you.
- Dolores O'Riordan ("Ego"): You can hear the 90s alt-rock grit here. It’s punchy and self-deprecating.
- Britney Spears ("Lucky"): This one caused a stir. It interpolates Britney’s 2000 classic, but instead of the "teen idol" gloss, it’s a direct confession about lying to the public for a year about her health.
- Amy Lee ("Lonely is the Muse"): Pure Evanescence energy. It’s goth, it’s dramatic, and it’s loud.
Why "Letter to God" Is the Secret Heart of the Record
There are three different versions of a song called "Letter to God" scattered across the tracklist, dated 1974, 1983, and 1998. It’s a genius move, really.
In the 1974 version (the Cher-inspired one), she’s a kid wishing to be sick. Why? Because she saw a boy with leukemia getting all the love and attention she craved. It’s a dark, honest thought that most people wouldn't dare say out loud.
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Then comes the 1983 version (Springsteen vibes). The prayer was answered, but not in the way she wanted. She’s older, she’s actually sick, and the irony is bitter.
Finally, 1998 (Aaliyah/R&B influence) brings it home. It’s a plea to take it all back. To just be okay. These tracks are the glue holding the "impersonator" gimmick together. They prove that no matter the decade or the genre, the pain remains the same.
Facing Mortality and Motherhood
The track "The End" was the first thing we heard from this era. It’s an acoustic ballad that feels like a gut punch. She sings about meeting someone and having to explain that her body is "circling the drain." It’s not a radio hit. It’s a document.
Then you have "I Believe in Magic," which features audio of her son, Ender. It’s inspired by Linda Ronstadt and it’s arguably the most tender moment on the album. There’s a crushing weight to hearing a mother sing about her legacy when she’s spent the last two years wondering if she’d be around to see her kid grow up.
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What People Get Wrong About This Era
Some critics—including the usual suspects like Anthony Fantano—have called it self-indulgent. They say it’s "main character syndrome" at its peak.
But isn't that the point?
When you’re facing your own mortality, you are the main character of that tragedy. The album is messy because life with a chronic illness is messy. It’s overproduced in spots and stripped-back in others because her energy levels were probably fluctuating exactly like that.
Actionable Takeaways for Listeners
If you're diving into The Great Impersonator for the first time, don't just shuffle it. You'll miss the narrative.
- Listen in Chronological Order: The flow from the acoustic "Only Living Girl in LA" to the Björk-inspired closer "The Great Impersonator" is intentional. It’s a journey through her psyche.
- Check the Visuals: Go back to Halsey’s Instagram or her website and look at the "impersonations" for each track. Seeing the PJ Harvey or Kate Bush references while listening to "Dog Years" or "I Never Loved You" changes the experience.
- Pay Attention to the Lyrics in "Darwinism": This is where she explains her "thesis." It’s about evolution, survival of the fittest, and feeling like she was born with a "defect" that makes her unsuited for the world.
- Research the "Great Imitator": Interesting fact—Lupus is often called "The Great Imitator" in the medical world because it mimics so many other diseases. The album title is a direct, clever nod to her diagnosis that many casual fans might miss.
This isn't an album for a summer road trip. It’s an album for a rainy night when you’re feeling a little bit broken. It’s Halsey at her most vulnerable, proving that even when she’s pretending to be someone else, she’s never been more herself.
To fully appreciate the depth here, go back and listen to her debut Badlands right after the track "Hurt Feelings." You can hear how the girl who wanted to escape "the room" in 2015 has finally realized the room was her own body all along.