Thoughty Blends Neon Nostalgia and Existential Pop-Rap in Dazzling Debut EP “Outta Love”

Tasting Thoughty’s debut EP Outta Love is like spooning into an electric sorbet—frigid nostalgia, fizzy zest, and a clandestine splash of mezcal sliding under the tongue before you realise you’re pleasurably inebriated with memories. Coaxed into being by producers Patrick Pyke Salmy, Ricardo Muñoz, and Leon Milla—architects of contemporary chart cathedrals for Zoe Wees, Lost Frequencies, and Kygo—the six tracks race through twenty-one minutes of pop-rap effervescence that has already elbowed its way onto Spotify’s NMF and Apple’s Neu in: Pop playlists.

The ignition key is “7TEEN AGAIN,” a rose-lensed anthem that weaponises adolescence the way graffiti hijacks municipal concrete. Thoughty’s baritone—less a voice than a mahogany banister worn smooth by midnight hands—glides across verses about fake IDs, chronic underfunding, and the invincible shimmer of endless summers. Snare cracks detonate in the cul-de-sac of your hippocampus, while synth arpeggios fizz like sherbet beneath ultraviolet strobes, compounding the sugar rush yet betraying a faint melancholy that adulthood can’t quite anaesthetise. The hook is inescapable; you’ll hum it while boiling pasta, despise the earworm, then surrender with a grin. A minor blemish, however, lurks in the second verse—its imagery of cigarette haze and “broken dreams” feels excessively travelled for such otherwise vivid cartography.

The track “Done” swivels the mood without dimming the neon. A rubber-band bassline and syncopated hi-hats summon a sound-bed midway between Aries’ pastel melancholia and Kid Laroi’s algorithmic adrenaline. Thoughty toggles from crooned velvet to clipped rap, framing relationship fatigue as a side-quest abandoned in favour of the main storyline. His candour renders suburban ennui cinematic; commonplace heartbreak acquires the shimmer of a French New-Wave montage. The metaphors bite harder here, yet the mix occasionally smothers his lower register beneath treble-polished guitars, as though the producers feared too much gravitas might puncture the confection.

Between these poles lie four additional cuts—especially the aqueous “Running Outta Love”—whose textures oscillate from cloud-pop gauze to neon-lit trap. What unites them is rhythmic exactitude: every hi-hat sits like a comma in Nabokov. Still, the EP’s homogeneous BPM corridor (hovering near ninety-five) denies Thoughty the chance to demonstrate whether he can sprint as deftly as he glides.

Quibbles noted, “Outta Love” remains an arresting inaugural canvas. It balances confectionery hooks with existential sting, proving that modern pop must dance and brood simultaneously. Should future releases jolt the tempo spectrum and grant that velvet baritone wider dominion, this sorbet could mature into a full dégustation. For now, indulge the chill and let the ensuing brain-freeze remind you how intoxicating reckless youth once felt on some impossible midnight horizon.

---

Tip

Enjoyed the read? Consider showing your support by leaving a tip for the writer

---

TRENDING NOW

CONNECT WITH US

---

---

---

FEATURED

---

GET YOUR DISCOUNT

---

---