When 12-year-old and blonde-bobbed Grace VanderWaal stepped onto the stage of “America’s Got Talent” last year, viewers were charmed. Then she started strumming her ukulele and began to sing a song she wrote herself. Everyone was blown away, so much so that Howie Mandel gave her the golden buzzer. A few months later, she won the season.

Not long after she was crowned, VanderWaal began work on an extended play called “Perfectly Imperfect.” It included the song she auditioned with, “I Don’t Know My Name,” other originals she performed on the show plus a new track. I didn’t listen to the five-track collection much before hearing this album, but I liked what I heard. VanderWaal is a charming and captivating performer, and the songs on that EP resonated with me and no doubt a lot of other listeners. I also liked how VanderWaal’s signature ukulele grooves accented most of the tracks, showcasing her unique brand of folk-leaning pop.

I had no idea the turn-around for a full-length album would be so fast, though. When I listened to the lead-off single released in June, something felt off. VanderWaal’s voice was still powerful and held that storytelling I liked, but the point-of-view shifted in the chorus and the pluckiness felt subdued despite its earnesty. I put it aside for a while, mulling over my thoughts as I gave “Just the Beginning” a few more rotations.

Now, that first single “Moonlight” has grown on me. VanderWaal has gone on record to say the track was inspired by a friend of hers who tried to mask their mental illness. This shines clear in the verses, where VanderWaal describes a girl who “always has a smile from morning to the night” and is “the perfect poster child” that “all her friends think [is] great.” But at the same time, she’s “a doll made out of glass” and “about to break.” When the chorus hits, the plucky ukulele groove anchors jaunty percussion as she pleads for her friend to remember how they once were. Maybe the uneasiness I felt before had to do with the production choices of Ido Zmishlany, even though his work for artists like Sabrina Carpenter and Bea Miller has been experimental but solid.

That doubt fades away with the next song, “Sick of Being Told.” It’s a kiss-off anthem where VanderWaal “is sick of being told what [she] should know.” “I wanna run away just to live my life my way,” she murmurs, one of the quieter moments on the song when she isn’t defiantly belting. Bass, ukulele and drums joyfully accent the piece, making it extra peppy and perfect for motivation. It’s easily the most focused song on the album, getting to its message loud and clear.

Unfortunately, that’s the strongest focus we get here. The next track “Burned” has intensity thanks to minor piano progressions and haunting orchestration, but the lyrics veer off course. Although I love the imagery of someone blowing out birthday candles, a song about being mature gets tossed out the window when a chorus about a boy putting himself in dangerous situations hits. This isn’t the only circumstance throughout the twelve songs’ lyrics. The second single “So Much More Than This,” aside from being an awkward stab at reggae, goes from a broad focus to a personal one in its second verse, even though the main message is that there is more to life than what society sells to the world. “Insane Sometimes” is a third example of this lack of direction. The line “I tried to look excited when you walked in the door” throws off a theme about embracing the craziness inside all of us. These continual tidbits detract from VanderWaal’s strong thematic ideas, making her artistic strokes messy.