Fell Asleep In The Sun — After

Review by Divine Nwugo

Listening to After’s debut is akin to discovering an obscure pop duo from the 2000s: the kind whose melodies you’d hear playing in the background of a television series or on the radio, only to spend hours afterwards scouring YouTube in an attempt to find the artist from the few lyrics you managed to commit to memory. It’s a strange kind of familiarity, and I truly think this is one of the album’s strongest attributes.

After’s ‘Fell asleep in the Sun’ doesn’t sound dated so much as strangely familiar, capturing the polished production and instantly recognisable instrumentation that defined so much pop in the 2000s. There is something almost nostalgic about hearing music that feels as though you should already know it. The project is certainly eclectic, merging a multitude of styles prevalent both today and 20 years ago, from trip-hop to alternative rock. Its production constantly shifts between hazy electronic beats and more organic instrumentation, with the duo’s contrasting yet complementary vocals tying the project together.

Even outside of the music itself, After seems committed to recreating this feeling of discovery. Their website, with its deliberately nostalgic aesthetic, feels almost like stumbling upon a forgotten corner of the internet. It recalls the playful, unconventional approach to album releases that has become increasingly rare, and reminded me of Hayley Williams’ recent efforts to make the process of releasing music feel like an event in itself.

But perhaps the best way to understand what makes After so compelling is to look at the songs themselves. Beneath the album’s cohesive aesthetic is a surprisingly varied collection of tracks, each revealing a slightly different side of the duo. The track ‘Promise (when you go)’ particularly stood out to me. Originally released as a single a few months before the album’s release, it features a catchy piano riff that weaves its way through the song. This element of the track leans into the Frutiger Aero energy and serves as the anchor point allowing the other instruments, like the acoustic guitar, to add organic depth. The chorus is simple and cyclical, and while repetition can sometimes feel like an easy way out of writing a more substantial hook, After demonstrates that simplicity can be just as effective. Rather than feeling underwritten, this feature makes the chorus almost hypnotic, cementing itself in your head long after the song has finished. 

Another track that stood out to me was ‘Blind’; it feels like one of the album’s more vocally driven moments, initially stripping everything back to let Justine Dorsey’s voice shine through. There’s an intimacy to these opening moments that makes her vocals feel particularly striking, before the introduction of acoustic drums and electric guitar gradually pulls the track into alternative-rock territory. I would describe this  track as somewhere between Imogen Heap’s atmospheric experimentation and Kelly Clarkson’s polished pop-rock. After take elements of both artists and fold them naturally into their own sound. This track is also one of the few that combines the vocals from both members, adding another layer of depth as the song progresses. I’ve always loved the combination of male and female vocals, particularly when the voices have enough contrast to make each other more interesting, and that’s something After pull off particularly well here. Their voices sit alongside one another without feeling crowded, giving the track an added richness that makes it even more engaging. 

The final track I want to highlight is ‘Secret Love Song’, which, admittedly, is one of the less engaging moments of the album for me. At just over a minute long, it feels noticeably sparse compared to the fuller production found elsewhere on the record, and as a standalone track, it leaves me wanting more. However, its brevity perhaps makes more sense when looking at the album as a whole. Acting almost as an interlude, it provides a brief moment of space and allows the pacing of the record to shift before moving into ‘Open Water’. I particularly like the small details woven into it, from the faint music in the background that sounds as though it is drifting from a distant speaker to the sound of waves in the distance. These touches contribute to the album’s distinctly Frutiger Aero-esque atmosphere while also creating a natural sonic transition into ‘Open Water’. In that sense, ‘Secret Love Song’ works well as part of the album, even if I personally find it less satisfying on its own. In fact, I think that is what makes it slightly frustrating; there is enough in those short moments to suggest the start of a really interesting song, and I would have much rather heard After develop those ideas into a full track than leave them as an interlude.

Ultimately, After’s debut feels like stumbling across something you were never supposed to find, yet somehow already know. Its nostalgic production, eclectic influences and attention to detail make for a record that feels both familiar and distinctly its own. While not every track leaves the same impression, there is something genuinely exciting about discovering a band with such a clear sense of identity so early on, and I look forward to hearing their future projects.