Let's Talk About Laila!
At just 18, the Brooklyn singer proves her prodigy status with Gap Year!, a self-produced album that captures the chaos, joy, and heartbreak of adolescence.
Laila! in 2024. Photo property of Dylan DeJong-Dougherty.
At my 25 years of age, some trends and events don't necessarily make me feel old, but do remind me that I used to be a lot younger. Last night LeBron James shared an NBA court with his son, Bronny. Donald Trump is the President for the second time in my life, and decade-old scenes of Victorious laid over Sahbabii's music with captions about "fine shyt" went viral on TikTok for like a week.
These things, however minute, still remind me of the person that I used to be—the kid who was seeing and feeling so much for the first time, somehow audacious and deeply insecure at once, heart on my sleeve because I didn't know any better. Gap Year! brought those feelings back.
The debut album from Laila!—Gap Year!—is a stunningly earnest, synthy, boom-bap R&B album self-produced entirely on GarageBand. To that the 18-year-old Brooklynite brings a compelling blend of angst, moxie, joy, and sorrow to her songwriting, each of which fluctuates throughout the album, just as they do throughout adolescence. Although still early in her journey, it's evident that she was destined for this path. Hearing her speak about growing up with Mos Def [now Yasiin Bey] as her father and how she has carved out her own identity as an independent artist makes that unmistakably clear.
"'Like That!' was my first song ever. I was 16 in my junior year, and something clicked where I was like…'I have to do this, because this is what I love, and I want to show the world. And I don't want to be afraid or timid anymore.' I kind of felt like I grew up enough to feel like 'okay this is like this is it.'"
The opening track "Talent Show" aligns perfectly with that notion. For an artist whose first big single became a viral TikTok sound overnight, it's a moment to properly reintroduce herself. She takes the stage with her friend Juan on guitar at what sounds like a coffeehouse talent show and lays down serious, intimate vocals about young love, great mistakes, and heartache. The song ends with an interlude a phone call from a parent or guardian telling her that she needs to get her ass to school, taking her right back to being a kid again.
The next three songs, "Sink 2 Rise", "R U Down?" and "If U Don't Know By Now" each show Laila! getting into her various sub-genre bags while maintaining that yearning teenage spirit. "Sink 2 Rise" sounds very "Sexual Healing" by Marvin Gaye to me, and serves as a nice precursor to what the rest of the album feels like—a gorgeous little jam you can two-step to. "R U Down?" feels a little more indie, more croony, XXL hoodie weather to me. Don't you know she's just a girl who doesn't even know what she's feeling? Don't tell her you love her, show her. "If U Don't Know By Now" channels a production style reminiscent of The Neptunes in the early 2000s.
But regardless of sound, one theme remains. She's a real lover—a letter writer, a note leaver. Many of us can imagine that intensity and impulsivity at 16, 17, 18. As Matthew Ritchie put it for Pitchfork, "trying to convince a teen in the throes of passion that their feelings are not the summit of human emotion is a fool's errand."
Then we enter the heart of the album. The next seven or so songs, from "Want 2" to "We're So Over" each give us vivid glimpses into the mind of a young prodigy, a "baby genius". "Want 2" is an incredibly fresh-sounding song that would be perfect to play at the roller rink—and the brief rap outro is one of my favourite moments on the LP.
"Like That!" was my favourite song upon first listening. A few more times through this album and it's still up there. I know I'm biased, but she gets such a nice pocket in her first (and only) rap verse on this track. When she says she's Stevier than Lacy and wavier than waves be, I 100% believe her. Her delivery is great, and it's unsurprising that rapping is how she started out. I'd love to hear her do it more. What's even crazier is the abject yearning that follows such a suave verse—the track takes a real turn when those synths come in.
“It be so bad, things be moving so fast. Watch my soul cast, I hope that this thing last. If it don’t work, even though I’ll be hurt. Nothing is forever, you know”
She kind of just ascends for the last minute of the song, angelic vocals layered over heavy, sprawling synths. It's such a real, uninhibited moment, this teenager using her vocal and production talent to express her truest emotions. No other part of the album has lingered in my head more than this one.
"Grand Opening" eventually usurped "Like That!", as my favourite track, and, for good reason. Take everything I loved about "Like That!", and just make it sound like modern New York. Laila! is just asking niggas to hold the door and respect her trash-can lid-ass drums, laced with her signature synths and snaps—and it really takes the track to a whole different place.
It's like Brandy over Cash Cobain's best beat. "Grand Opening" is truly one of the most enjoyable, replayable songs for me this year, and I need to hear it live. Shit like this is why it's so hard for me to entertain the "R&B is dead" talks, because are you hearing this? And it ain't hard to find.
The versatility shines again in "Blackberry (Date 4 Prom)" as she takes synths from uplifting to melancholy as she sings about being lost and confused and sad and alone for prom. It's another instance of this flux, a teen who has confidence in herself but is still fragile and in need of real assurance.
"Could Be" is another production masterclass, as Laila! lulls us into ballad mode for about a minute—why don't you choose me? I could be everything you want me to be if you want for life to feel like fantasy—for a full minute before dropping a beat so slick it forced me up out of my seat the first time I heard it. Her voice is beautiful and raw, but there are so many production decisions and sounds like this on the album that have just floored me. This is like Joey Bada$$ making 1999 at 17. We're in the midst of an immense talent that is just stepping out of her cocoon.
Laila! in 2024. Photo property of Erica Westley.
The tail end of the album wraps up smoothly, a strong 17 songs in just 44 minutes. The sad breakup song "If you're listening (Interlude)", and the happy breakup song "We're So Over!"—another lovely instance of Laila! boom bapifying a very 1990s ballad vibe—and of course the viral "Not My Problem" each stands out.
She's a bit more indignant in the latter tracks, and it sounds great. Although it isn't the final song, the "Flyer Than U" is the peak of that energy. This smart, almost coy beat makes me think about how much music Laila! was exposed to it as a child, because it feels like a perfect tribute to the legacy of the '90s and how it impacted today's R&B sound.
I really hesitate to call Laila! 'mature beyond her years' because she tells us so many times that she isn't. And yet the intention, thoughtfulness, and care that have so clearly gone into her vocals and especially her production are that of someone who is doing what they were called to do regardless of age. I'm just like everybody else—when the "niggas talkin shit" girl from TikTok dropped an album, I moved slow. But when I got hip, I was blown away.
I'm sure that Laila! has so many more artistic evolutions coming, in the same way, I'm sure I'll be looking back at this time in my life 20, 30 years from now like 'damn, I was so young'. But in those times, and now, it's projects like Gap Year! that help us remember who we were before blossom.
Stream Gap Year! below: