Vulnerability and Whimsy in Tandem, a Love Letter to A Matter of Time, by Jocelyn Gale

Laufey released her third studio album A Matter of Time, in August of 2025. I had the privilege of seeing her perform this album live this fall–reawakening my love months post-release, like clockwork…(track 1, get it?) In my recent interest in listening to happy music for the sake of rediscovering sincerity, this album has allowed me to tap into my inner polka-dotted-tap-dancing self, who longs to sing in the rain in a dress that twists and flows when I move. Arguably her strongest album yet, Laufey has used her boost in popularity in this past year to strengthen her music career–inviting jazz back into the mainstream with grace and whimsy. A Matter of Time is an album full of dreamlike imagery, fantastical metaphors, and nods to her literary friends. Her voice is poised and smooth as honey–pouring sweet jazzy pop about life and love and friendship and self discovery onto every track in this album. 

“Clockwork” the album's opening track–is a skipping through New York in the rain kind of song. A playful tick-tocking tune about the blushing realities of falling into love. “He just called me, said he's runnin' late/Like me, he probably had to regurgitate,” to say the word regurgitate with effortlessly smooth vocals is a true feat, and Laufey has done exactly that. This track sets the tone of sweetly sung vulnerability expressed in so many forms throughout the album. It’s cutesy, it's charming, it’s the perfect opening for this album. 

Sourced from The Hollywood Reporter.

The second track (one of the singles from the album) “Lover Girl” continues the whimsical lovestruck charm of the first track. Don’t be fooled by its tongue-and-cheek tone, the song sticks with the vulnerability Laufey describes when discussing the album. She sings, “I can't wait another day to see you/How embarrassing to be this way/I'm in a reckless fever/Love-struck girl, I'd tease her” a back-and-forth feeling of being smitten, and the worry that there is some loss of inner-feminism to engage with lovesick crushes and blushing over men. This worry that yearning for a man separates a woman from independence–attempting to discern want from need. Contradicting the all too common teaching to young women that to love a man is to give up your own autonomy, to succumb to some 1950’s housewife preset, painting love as a weakness. Over quick-step piano keys Laufey admits to loving and blushing and wanting those things–oh how embarrassing! She’d tease herself, but should she? All of this, set to a bouncy, cello, drum-brushed, catchy tune, making its listener pause in their internal storybook fantasyland and think about femininity, individualism and cheek-blushing crushes.

On a less bouncy note, the third track “Snow White” feels like listening to a diary entry. When performing this live, Laufey described this track as one dedicated to the negativity she felt growing up about herself, and a way to express that, to reach others she imagines might feel the same. She was a young woman who didn’t look like her white counterparts, and was treated unkindly because of this–she was treated as though she was less than. This song was created and feels like it was made for herself, to understand those feelings and to put them into the world, rather than spinning around inside. It’s simple, smooth, expressive, and sad. It is insecurity poetically sung to the tune of acoustic guitar and strings. 

Skipping forward on the album and back to the more whimsical tracks, is perhaps my favorite– “Silver Lining”, another single. This track is certainly reminiscent of the many jazz artists she’s referenced as influences in her career. As a fellow lover of Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday, it’s no surprise that track six sticks out to me. A song about going to hell with a lover, and finding the silver lining to be that they’ll go to hell together. It's wistful, playful and has vocals that are just so effortlessly dreamy. I picture a jazz bar lit only by tableside candlelight and the slow swaying of bodies in sync with one another, thinking and being in love. 

With a rise in the concept of “performative males” (the act of a man pretending to be interested in things such as feminist literature and women's rights solely for the purpose of sleeping with women) what better song to bring up from this album than its twelfth track, “Mr. Eclectic”? Meant to poke at the behavior of a man attempting to impress her with a surface level understanding of basic ideas in an attempt to “woo” her, she sings, “Oh, grandiose thinker of mine/Talking 'bout some dead composer/You're just a stoner patronizing me.” Sticking with her cheeky tone, she sings over an ensemble of string instruments, guitar, and groovy drumbeat. A fun-loving diss toward the faux casanova character attempting to impress her with surface level concepts. 

Between and after the songs mentioned are many other sweet, listen-worthy tracks–another highlight being “Castle in Hollywood”, an ode to the ending of childhood friendship and lyrical imagery of young, platonic love. This album is so wonderfully poetic, and to hear vocals so smooth and dreamlike in an era of constant autotune, is refreshing and captivating. Laufey's commitment to a clean and unprocessed sound is what makes this poppy return of jazz work so serendipitous. 

Seeing her in concert was a treat, and I hope that I have conveyed the A Matter of Time love that was reawakened in me. Fall is the perfect time for whimsy–though there is certainly room for this album in the winter months as well–so do with that what you will, reader. But know that listening to this album will encourage your whimsical self to skip down sidewalks and spin through hallways in any season, and is well worth the listen.