The music business is full of potential Sky Ferreiras. Imagine being one of the first two girls who got fired from Destiny’s Child, or being the one guy in this Mickey Mouse Club video who didn’t go on to be in ‘N Sync or Drive. Miley Cyrus’s recent antics have ignited our most recent storm of public concern about the fate of child stars, of the kids who were blessed with money and adulation before they could figure out what to do with either. And admittedly there are ten sad stories for one Timberlake. But what about the kids in the fame-grinder who didn’t make it even that far? The charismatic 12-year-olds who were yanked out of school, who had promises of fame and adulation dangled in front of them, and who were then forced to spend their teenage years in airplanes and studios and conference rooms with studio execs who didn’t hear a single? If anything, wouldn’t that be more damaging to a still-in-formation psyche? The late teens and early 20s are riotously dramatic years for just about everyone anyway, but imagine going through the usual drug experimentation and predatory significant-other experiences while being haunted by the idea that you’re a has-been, or a never-was, and that you never got to experience all the usual dumb kid stuff that turns out to be so important in retrospect? Sky Ferreira went through all of that, is still going through all of that, and what sets her apart is that she’s now made a wonderfully glittery pop album — an album that should finally turn her into an actual star if her record label doesn’t disastrously fuck up — about all of it.