Laufey’s new album, A Matter of Time, feels like the kind of record you put on when you’re lying in bed at 1 a.m., staring at the ceiling and wondering why life feels so complicated. It’s grander, louder, and more dramatic than her past work, and yet it still keeps that soft, cozy intimacy that made people fall in love with her in the first place. She’s always been known for mixing bossa nova with mellow pop, but this time she experiments more. There are folk undertones, jazz rhythms, and even sweeping orchestral moments that make the whole album feel almost like a film soundtrack.
The first song, “Clockwork,” is the perfect entry point. It’s lighthearted and fun, yet quietly serious in the way it describes the routine of life. It’s like she’s letting you laugh along with the absurdity of it all. Then she flips moods. “Lover Girl” is sweet and bubbly, almost like a summer crush, while “Too Little, Too Late” slows things down and makes you want to close your eyes and sway, almost as if you’re listening to an old jazz record your grandparents might’ve loved. But just when you’ve gotten comfortable, she ends everything with “Sabotage,” a song that grows into this chaotic, emotional storm of strings and static.
What makes this album different from her others is how much more grounded she sounds. Laufey used to lean into dreamy, ethereal beauty, but here she isn’t afraid to let things get messy. “Tough Luck” shows a blunt side of her that we haven’t seen much, and “Snow White” might be one of her boldest songs yet, directly challenging the way women are measured by looks instead of brains. Listening to it feels like she’s peeling back layers and letting you see a more complicated version of herself.
Not every song lands perfectly, and sometimes the album feels like it wanders off, especially compared to her last Grammy-winning project, Bewitched. But honestly, that’s part of its charm. You can hear her reaching for something new, refusing to just play it safe. And even when a track isn’t as tight, it still feels like a necessary step in her growth.
At the end of the day, A Matter of Time works because it balances both sides of Laufey. It gives fans the nostalgia and warmth they love, but it also introduces a more fragile, more daring version of her. It’s the kind of album that feels like a milestone, like she’s caught between the artist she used to be and the artist she’s becoming. And maybe that’s why it feels so relatable. Because who isn’t somewhere in between?
