With hook-driven songwriting, L Devine twists expectations, lacquering her songs with staunchly relatable and provocatively witty self-deprecating lyrics. To date, she has earned 100 million+ streams, won the GAY TIMES’ Elevate Emerging Star in Music award, and garnered praise from Charli XCX, Dua Lipa, Sam Fender and Lewis Capaldi.
Her rise continues with debut album ‘Digital Heartifacts’, a record that is unafraid to dive into the emotionally gnarlier side of life, but with humour, sharply observant lyrics and the sort of astute songwriting that L Devine has become synonymous with. It’s the sound of an artist embracing her independence, reclaiming her identity and creating the most authentic representation of who she really is.
L Devine says, “Writing ‘Miscommunikaty’ was the moment where I landed on the ‘Digital Heartifacts’ world. There are all these emotions, but they’re stored digitally. I have these little snapshots on my laptop of my life and of the place I was at mentally during the time I made the album. I just find it fascinating that all those emotions are just code on a computer.”
The beautifully simple bedroom pop of ‘Laundry Day’ is arguably one of the most vulnerable moments on the album. It charts being in the midst of a vicious circle: personal anxieties leading to a break-up and in turn leading to a deeper depression. “She’s probably right that there is a line between humility and self-loathing to the point of mental instability.” But within the turmoil, the song ends with the positive realisation that a little self-care is the only way to have a chance to move on.
The process behind ‘Digital Heartifacts’ really got underway when L Devine stepped away from the chaos of living in London and returned to her roots in the North-East. Back amongst a network of family and friends, she had the space to nurture her creativity and reconnect with who she was. Collaborating with Julien Flew was key to unlocking the new songs that were emerging, anchoring her in the safe space of working primarily with one person rather than the range of voices who contributed to her EPs.
Beyond the singles, opening track ‘Eaten Alive’ finds L Devine channelling her personal triggers into a release of self-deprecation with her voice twisted into fragmented places. ‘If I Don’t Laugh’ also plays upon short-term escapism, this time with a pulsating, Xenomania-style mutant pop song in which she shrugs off her troubles in favour of a hedonistic night out, and the bouncy, lust-filled ‘Worship’ feels like the older sibling to the previous fan favourite ‘Like You Like That’. Elsewhere ‘Hater’ approaches hyper-pop territory with a confrontation with her inner negativity, and anger overflows in ‘PMO’ as she grapples with misogyny and her own insecurities.
