Laufey Bares Her Soul and Softest Self in “A Matter of Time”
Laufey, the people’s pop-jazz princess, has returned with her third full-length album, A Matter of Time. Released on August 22, A Matter of Time marks the singer’s incredible feat of masterfully creating three albums in the last three years. Known for her angelic ability to incorporate jazz and classical music into modern releases, Laufey has pushed the limit even further this time around. The fourteen tracks are based on Laufey’s signature sound, while simultaneously incorporating bossa nova, rock, and country. A Matter of Time takes listeners on a sonic and emotional journey through love, heartbreak, and self-reflection, while proving to be her silkiest and deepest album yet.
Pre-releases of a Lover’s Past
With the release of “Silver Lining” in April, the idea of A Matter of Time started to form. The introduction of the heavy bass with the combination of strings and velvety light percussion welcomed listeners into the new world of Laufey, as well as her story of warmhearted and innocently mischievous love. Though the tempo is not incredibly fast, its gliding cadence begs to be danced to. “Silver Lining” feels like a proper sweeping jazz song, dripping with shiraz and deep like dark chocolate.
While “Silver Lining” was new but familiar, it led into “Tough Luck,” which presented a more pungent side of the singer that, after so many songs about heartbreak and limerence, was always soon to come. “Tough Luck” came as the second pre-release and is the only one among the four to be placed in the latter half of the album. Directly after the new track “Forget-Me-Not,” listeners can now see the continuation from one to the next with soft strings leading the opening. With a certain fervor, the tempo rises as the song continues before reaching the famous bridge, where Laufey has a proper and well-warranted crashout.
A little over a month later, Laufey released her most “Laufey” pre-release yet with “Lover Girl,” and it quickly rose to be arguably her most popular single off the album yet. Reminiscent of her hit singles “From the Start” and “Falling Behind,” “Lover Girl” is filled with feminine energy and an upbeat, swinging bossa nova story. Reflecting on her progressive fall into love, the singer quickly realizes she has become the lovesick girl she never thought she would be again. Scorned by distance, she yearns to see her lover again, though instead of being sad about it, she’s purely giddy for the day the gap closes.
Laufey’s final pre-release, “Snow White,” is as self-reflective as it is heart-shattering, but any long-time fan knows this is a necessary element to her albums. The track delves into the reality of being a girl, and upon release, was accompanied by an equally beautiful music video. The message of “Snow White” strikes like a chilling breeze on a winter day, with every line adding pain to an already raw wound. While there is the blessing of girlhood and womanhood alike, there is also the world’s perception of what a woman should be. The concept of feeling wrongly imperfect isn’t novel to her music, but every approach is given an honest and chillingly present emotion, making it feel new and freshly isolating.
Along with the music video for “Snow White” lie the music videos for “Lover Girl” and “Silver Lining.” Each project was overseen by the creative direction of Junia Lín Jónsdóttir, Laufey’s twin sister. Beautifully embracing her directorial debut, Junia was named the director of the music videos for both “Lover Girl” and “Snow White.” Shot in Tokyo and Iceland, respectively, both lean into the stories behind the songs. With the song being originally written while in Tokyo, the “Lover Girl” video stars Laufey, adorned in a black dress, dancing among various rooms and daydreaming in different locations. Contrasting this with organically perfect life and light, the “Snow White” video was shot where the sisters grew up in Mýradalur under the bright sun and over the stunning rolling land.
Grieving What Once Was
It isn’t only “Snow White” that is intertwined with Laufey’s Icelandic roots, though. The ninth track on the album, “Forget-Me-Not,” explores the love between the singer and her homeland. Missing the wind, the winding hills, and endless beaches, Laufey sings toward her home, “Gleymdu mér aldrei þó ég héðan flýg / Gleymdu mér aldrei, elskan mín” asking Iceland to never forget her.
Having left Iceland to run toward her dreams, she’s accomplished everything she set out to and now lives among the stars, yet away from her roots. To add to the personable quality, the song was recorded alongside the Iceland Symphony Orchestra, a group of immaculately talented musicians with whom Laufey previously recorded a full live album.
The only other song on the album filled with a yearning loss comes two songs prior with “Too Little, Too Late.” Told from a man’s perspective, “Too Little, Too Late” focuses on watching a past lover move on with someone else. Regretting not appreciating his ex when he had the chance, the narrator painfully accepts his mistakes and watches her happily be engaged to another. The perspective switch is new to Laufey’s discography, and while it may sound daunting to tell a story from an opposing gender, the singer actually said it was fun and one of her possible favorite songs.
Moments of Moving On
Though “Castle in Hollywood” may at first sound like a reflection on a romantic breakup, after listening closer, it’s about something much deeper: a past friendship between two women. Sonically based on guitar, “Castle in Hollywood” adopts an undercurrent of country and blues as the singer tries to say goodbye to aching memories of feminine love and experiences. When thinking of the song, Laufey stated, “Women have such a strong, deep empathy that it makes friend breakups, especially female friendships, really hard sometimes … I’m a whole lot more stressed about that song than I am about any songs about relationships.”
For more moments of moving on, we are led to the last few songs on the album: “A Cautionary Tale,” “Mr. Eclectic,” and “Clean Air.” Coming in at track eleven, “A Cautionary Tale” is a snappy tune that lures listeners in through a tragic fable. After fully pouring herself into someone else, she was left empty, and in return was filled with their dreaded negativity. Giving a nod to the album title and cover, Laufey sings in the bridge, “Who coils up in jealousy to mask his insecurities / And I can’t fix you, God, I tried, the hourglass I shattered just in time.” As the longest track on the album, “A Cautionary Tale” doesn’t hesitate to pull in the song’s receiver to explain the narrator’s lesson learned and warn them of doing the same.
“A Cautionary Tale” quickly slips into “Mr. Eclectic” with a juxtaposition of bossa nova and a message that can be categorized in the same box as “Tough Luck” and her previous song, “Bored.” While teasing the man who is talking her ear off, Laufey admires the titular “Mister Eclectic Allen Poe” for his sad attempt at beginning interesting. Founded on the all-too-familiar acts of mansplaining and performative hobbies, “Mr. Eclectic” ends with Laufey simply calling him out for what he is before fully ridding him and others through “Clean Air.”
Immersed in country and folk twang, “Clean Air” is the perfect song to twirl and skip around to while smudging out every corner of a previously man-infested space. The song is equally hilarious as it is serious. During the chorus, Laufey sings, “Sweeter pastures, wait for me like a lover / My soul has suffered, get the fuck out of my atmosphere / I’m breathing clean, clean air.” Looking for recovery, the singer goes to the doctor and ventures outside in hopes of returning to her previously unwounded state. Whether about toxic relationships, previous friendships, or simply piled-up hate comments, it’s all in the past for Laufey with bright positivity ahead.
Learning to Fall Again
Though A Matter of Time heavily deals with loss and introspection, it wouldn’t be a Laufey album without love. The album’s intro, “Clockwork,” begins with Laufey echoing like a clock deeply chiming before she jazzily introduces her predicament – clumsily but playfully falling in love with a friend. From the cello to the soft percussion and clock chimes, “Clockwork” sounds like a holiday song and sets the scene of falling in love under a winter, or Icelandic, snow.
The fifth song, “Carousel,” is purely transportive as it feels like a fairytale and sounds like a ballerina music box. In front of a prominent, dreamy piano, Laufey sings with shyness as she nervously falls in love. As she tensely opens up to her love, she becomes increasingly insecure with the knowledge that they are able to witness all of her ups and downs as she goes around on her carousel. As the softest song on the album, “Carousel” presents a vulnerable side of the singer that shows her attempt at fearfully allowing herself to fall in love.
Acting as a soundtrack to seemingly the same scenario is the only fully instrumental track – “Cuckoo Ballet – Interlude,” composed by Laufey alongside Spencer Stewart. The interlude catches listeners up on everything they may have missed in the first half of the album before welcoming the second. While Laufey did place an interlude in her last album, “Cuckoo Ballet – Interlude” is written as a true performance piece. While previous tracks shine through like “Lover Girl” and “Snow White,” it is as if Clara from The Nutcracker is waking up or Prince Siegfried from Swan Lake is falling in love with Odette all over again. As the song comes to a close, the clock of Laufey’s life begins again, leading to adventurous strings and mischievous wind instruments as well as the second half of the album.
After “Cuckoo Ballet – Interlude” comes five songs of grief, loss, and surrender, until the last track of the album arrives. At first, “Sabotage” sounds like a signature Laufey song through the culmination of self-reflection and memories of love. Instead, Laufey is acting as her own enemy in a game she’s built for herself to fail. As her partner tells her he loves her, she can’t convince herself to believe it and instead plans to get in the way of their relationship before it progresses. Directly after the first chorus, her sabotage begins with piercing, screeching strings on and off again.
As the story builds, so does her disbelief that the relationship will work out until finally, the sabotage begins. The last minute flips into intense rock as we enter the destructive mind of the main character. With the pace quickening, A Matter of Time races towards an end with open honesty and the hurtful reality of trying to learn how to fully fall in love. Piled with frustration and agony out of wanting to give in on top of a fear of being hurt, Laufey’s siren screams achingly echo until, in the end, it goes silent.
A Matter of Time is available to stream on Spotify and Apple Music. Make sure to stay up to date on all things Laufey on her Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube.
Looking for more Laufey? Be transported to Laufey’s Bewitched: The Goddess tour here!
