“ “Slash” (2014) is a raw, tender electro-pop confessional that captures the quiet ache of post-breakup limbo. Driven by layered harmonies and a pulsing, lo-fi synth beat, the song feels like a late-night journal entry put to music, unvarnished and vulnerable. The call-and-response vocals between you, your friend, and his sister build a conversational intimacy, making the listener feel like they’re overhearing two ex-lovers trying to navigate the awkward terrain of a fractured closeness they once took for granted. The hook, punctuated with the “slash” motif, cleverly lays out the layered identities people hold in relationships: lover, friend, family, confidant. Each slash is a small heartbreak, marking a piece of identity that now feels gone, while the refrain of “but now my love’s depleted” lands like a quiet resignation rather than a dramatic flourish. Musically, “slash” has a DIY warmth with its straightforward synth chords and gentle drum programming, while the vocals glide with an honesty that makes each lyric feel lived in. The verses meander like memories bubbling up in the dark, and the chorus ties it together with a melody that feels like something you’d hum to yourself when you’re trying not to think about someone, but failing. “slash” captures the space between nostalgia and acceptance, the moment you realize you can’t go back, but you can’t fully let go either. It’s a song that feels like a long exhale at 2 AM, and it holds the listener gently in that moment of truth. ”

“ Relations is a visceral, soul-baring portrait of a relationship unraveling in quiet, intimate chaos. Fueled by unfiltered lyrics that fuse sensuality, resentment, and existential fatigue, the song captures the blurred line between comfort and decay. The narrator swings between tenderness and self-destruction — from silk sheets and love-wrapped sex to emotional withdrawal and rage projected onto friends. Musically, the track blends stark vulnerability with jagged energy — melancholic chord progressions underpin poetic confessions, while the production retains a raw, almost voyeuristic feel. It’s not just about love or its collapse — it’s about the push-pull of obligation, faith, personal history, and the emotional artifacts left behind. This is a song that feels like waking up in a warm bed that suddenly turns cold. Beautiful. Broken. Honest. ”

“ “Student” is an authentic, emotionally resonant indie track capturing the naive urgency of teenage love, the tension between fantasy and reality, and the cultural templates youth navigate. It has a timeless, raw indie charm and would fit well in a coming-of-age film or a personal artist EP showcasing your storytelling and melodic sensibilities. ”

“ “Beg” is a shimmering, bittersweet electronic ballad that captures the moment someone realizes what it feels like to truly give love freely, without fear, games, or guarded hesitation. Ross Anderson’s songwriting anchors the track with plainspoken yet cutting observations about past relationships where desire was transactional, contrasted against the gentle, patient connection now being experienced. The lyrics shift from playful defiance (“the more they’d try…the more I’d resist”) to open vulnerability (“not a burden, not a chore, no obligation, something more”), marking the evolution from caution to surrender. Evan’s vocals carry the narrative with a breathy, earnest quality, allowing the repeated hook, “Don’t have to beg for my love,” to feel both reassuring and achingly intimate. She sounds like she’s letting go in real-time, letting warmth replace old armor. The electronic production you provided wraps the vocals in glistening synth layers and warm pads, balancing retro 2010s electronica with a timeless softness. The beat is subtle but persistent, mirroring the song’s message: no rush, no pressure, but with a steady, undeniable pull. “Beg” feels like driving home late at night, the lights on the road blurring into streaks, as you realize you’ve stopped bracing yourself and have finally let someone in. ”