After the Fairytale: Laufey’s Beautiful, Brutal Epilogue
Laufey transports us back into her fairytale-like world where, beneath the bossa nova sound, her lyrics explore the deeper complexities of romance, the aftermath of heartbreak, and the vulnerable side of being a “lover girl.”
But like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, what looks like an enchanting world from the outside reveals something darker from beneath the surface.
Don’t be swayed by the theatrical opening track because as the album unfolds, we hear a rawer, more unguarded side of Laufey than on any of her previous work. A Matter of Time is ultimately the sound of rose-tinted glasses being ripped off, and descending into the beautiful chaos of falling in and out of love.
Theatrical and whimsical from the first note, Clockwork opens the album with Laufey’s voice drifting through jazz chords and a choir singing “ding dong” in the style of a cuckoo clock. The clock motif is woven throughout the album like a romance and a warning at the same time, defined by infatuation, doubt, and the quiet fear that even the most magical moments will eventually slip away.
Carousel carries that same fairytale whimsy, soft and chiming, like lifting the lid of a jewellery box mid-spell.
Silver Lining is for the jazz-loving hopeless romantics. It is the track you would dedicate to your ride or die, carried by the line “if you go to hell, I’d go to hell with you.” It captures the feeling of finding someone you are so deeply infatuated with that you would drop everything, as though the romance itself is slightly forbidden and all the more intoxicating for it.
Then Too Little, Too Late cuts deep. Arriving halfway through the album, it depicts the specific frustration of betrayal and regret when the person you loved turns out to be a different, better version of themselves for someone else. The hurt of hearing about that person through the grapevine is crystallised in the line “I read in the papers he’s someone that girls dream about.” The dream has turned into a nightmare, and the villain is her own regret. Perhaps it was simply a case of right person, wrong time, as she sings “Guess we’re soulmates in different lifetimes” while quietly wondering whether this lifetime could still be the one. The yearning is almost unbearable, and it lingers.
The interlude Cuckoo Ballet arrives like a scene straight out of The Nutcracker, a moment of graceful pause before the album pivots. Forget-Me-Not feels like a wakeup call, and Tough Luck like the first real attempt at healing. The latter captures an internal struggle of picking yourself up while feeling deeply misunderstood, with a satisfying streak of pettiness: “you won’t be missed, I’m glad to see you go.” That cynical, sharp tone makes it feel like the moment you finally shake off the spell of yearning and realise, with some relief, that you dodged a bullet.
A Cautionary Tale follows as the first light of dawn in the story. It belongs to every listener who has ever given their everything to a love that left them to pick up the pieces alone. It reminds you that loving too much was never the weakness — surviving it is the whole point.
As Laufey sings, “I’ve always been in love, my chameleon heart,” being taken for granted does not make you the villain; it makes you the hero of your own story. It is for all the girls who have ever felt like they were never enough to be loved, who fought hardest for something that should have come freely, only to realise they were enough all along and did not need a lover to validate that for them.
The bossa nova swagger of Mr. Eclectic, featuring backing vocals by Clairo, offers a witty, sharp-tongued poke at performative nonchalance: “what a poser, you think you’re so interesting.” At this point, we are no longer listening through rose-tinted ears. Clean Air arrives as the penultimate track and feels exactly like its title suggests: the sensation of clearing out your space, mentally and physically, after a love story has ravaged you. “I’m breathing clean, clean air” is both a declaration and a long overdue exhale.
Laufey closes the first part of the album with Sabotage, where the title phrase finally lands. It encapsulates the entire emotional whirlwind of the record: falling in love, fighting for love, being torn apart by love, and eventually finding something resembling self-love on the other side. The track slowly unravels into noise and dissonance, which feels entirely intentional. Love is not tidy, and Laufey does not pretend otherwise.
For those who needed just a little more, the deluxe edition released on 10 April 2026 offers four additional tracks that feel like an honest epilogue.
Laufey, though seemingly stepping into a new chapter, finds herself still quietly drawn back to the old story, knowing full well it is “a terrible idea, the worst one I’ve had all year.” It is that painfully relatable feeling of believing you have moved on, only to discover something inside you simply has not caught up yet. How I Get addresses this with disarming vulnerability, the kind of lyrics that feel like they were pulled straight from a private diary entry: that’s just how I get.
I Wait, I Wait, I Wait slows time right down, the heavy clock ticking replaced by a gentle, melodic piano that lulls the listener into the strange, suspended feeling of healing without really moving anywhere just yet. The deluxe edition closes with I’ll Forget About You (In Time), a ballad that carries both heroism and melancholy in equal measure.
It acknowledges that even memories and feelings have a mortality to them. The love may have been eternal, perhaps even a nod to those soulmates in another lifetime, but in this one, the hurt was enough. Laufey offers closure, both to herself and to the listener, and it feels entirely earned.
A Matter of Time is an album that feels both timeless and deeply personal. It is the kind of album that walks you through the full weight of loving someone, losing them, and eventually finding your way back to yourself — making yearners feel understood and seen every step of the way. Laufey has always been good. Here, she is brave.
