There’s something beautifully fragile about the world Suki Summer builds on LOVESICK AND SICK OF LOVE—a soft, gauzy reality suspended between heartbreak and healing. In just six songs, the London-based indie-pop artist paints a full emotional arc, inviting listeners to wade into the aftermath of love with her signature blend of delicate production and piercing honesty.
The EP begins with “Summer Crush,” a fluttery, nostalgic recollection of queer first love, delivered with breathy vocals and sun-drenched synths. There’s a cinematic quality to the song—its golden glow is as much about what it could be as what it was. But the sweetness is tinged with a knowing sadness, a foreshadowing of the unraveling to come.
“Marianne” deepens that sense of longing, offering a lyrical snapshot of a summer romance that couldn’t survive the weight of distance and disillusionment. Written during travels through Italy, the track blends subtle electronic textures with a haunting melodic line that drifts in and out like a fading daydream. Suki doesn’t just sing about heartbreak—she curates the mood of it, every detail curated with precision.
The EP’s emotional turning point comes in “LOVESICK AND SICK OF LOVE,” a minimalist, slow-burning meditation on emotional burnout. Her critique of modern dating culture is sharp but never cynical, grounded in real disappointment rather than trendy detachment. It’s a moment of stillness amid the emotional noise—a pause to reflect on the repetitive nature of opening up just to be let down.
Where many artists might reach for drama, Suki leans into nuance. On “used to you,” she explores the slow erosion of love, where silence says more than shouting ever could. Her vocals are hushed, almost reluctant, as if she’s saying things she’s only just admitted to herself. The production is muted, echoing the emotional stasis at the heart of the track.
Then comes “i still want u,” the EP’s most vulnerable moment. Here, Suki lays her heart bare. The instrumentation is sparse—just enough to hold her words aloft. It’s a song about clinging to a ghost, of searching for someone you’ve already lost in every new face. There’s no resolution, only recognition.
The EP closes on “outro (it’s nvr bye it’s jus c ya l8r),” a meditative track that feels like emotional exhalation. Acoustic elements blend with soft ambient textures, creating a sense of release rather than finality. It’s not goodbye, as the title suggests, but an acceptance of impermanence—and maybe even growth.
With LOVESICK AND SICK OF LOVE, Suki Summer delivers a debut that is emotionally articulate and sonically cohesive. It’s a record that sits in the quiet spaces between feelings, illuminating the moments we usually keep to ourselves. Vulnerable, poetic, and full of quiet revelations, it positions Suki as a vital new voice in the indie-pop landscape—one who understands that sometimes, the softest songs hit the hardest.
