In her debut single, Old Days, Poppy Freeley etched the emotional archaeology of heartbreak into an ambient daydream of introspection and ache, and explored how, just like a snake sheds its skin, we outgrow people until they become someone we used to know. Hailing from Leeds, the singer-songwriter didn’t approach her first sonic statement with caution; instead, she let her melancholia bloom into a sepia vignette that shadows you long after the final reverb trails into nothing.
Old Days is a confessional archive of loss, but not the kind that leaves you empty. It evokes the merciless rhythm of growing apart from who you once were and the people that version of you clung to. The dream pop-laced arrangement presses its weight on your ribcage, not to suffocate, but to make you feel how much of the past still lingers in your lungs. The production wears the same nostalgic patina as a shoebox full of undeveloped film, and through her vocals, Poppy conjures the same spectral desolation found in the most soul-shattering cuts from My Bloody Valentine and Slowdive. Her voice doesn’t reach for breathy dramatics; instead, it glides through the haze with a mournful grace that carries more weight than any overworked hook.
With her nods to Lana Del Rey and Amy Winehouse, Poppy sets her own creative coordinates without replicating the architecture of her inspirations. Old Days doesn’t seek to comfort or resolve, it simply offers a mirror to the ache of remembering. That truth alone will echo loudest with indie fans who understand that nostalgia never really fades, it just shifts form.
Old Days is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify.
– Review by Amelia Vandergast