12 Songs, 35 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

Lou Doillon’s hushed alto resembles a plume of smoke: It curls around syllables and slips through the cracks of the music before dissolving into the air. On her quietly despondent second album, Doillon takes on heartbreak and loneliness above a backdrop of acoustic guitars, piano, fuzzed-up organ, and stripped-back drum kit, wistfully calling out to a part-time lover on the delicately strummed “Weekender Baby,” and serving up a bitter kiss-off on the windswept “Nothing Left.” Doillon’s understated delivery and her band’s perfectly pitched minimalism make Lay Low a gorgeously realized slow-burn bummer.

EDITORS’ NOTES

Lou Doillon’s hushed alto resembles a plume of smoke: It curls around syllables and slips through the cracks of the music before dissolving into the air. On her quietly despondent second album, Doillon takes on heartbreak and loneliness above a backdrop of acoustic guitars, piano, fuzzed-up organ, and stripped-back drum kit, wistfully calling out to a part-time lover on the delicately strummed “Weekender Baby,” and serving up a bitter kiss-off on the windswept “Nothing Left.” Doillon’s understated delivery and her band’s perfectly pitched minimalism make Lay Low a gorgeously realized slow-burn bummer.

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