In her new single "Closer," the English–Arab singer-songwriter Layla Kaylif once again proves that openness can be its own form of uprising. Famed for wearing her heart on her sleeve and infusing her lyrics with a poet's sensibility, Kaylif has adopted an intoxicating strain of slow-burning alt-rock to tell this tale, and an atmosphere and emotion meet in perfect, chilling harmony.
"Closer," by comparison, pulses with a shadowy, restless energy that exists just below the facade of a tranquil sea turned storm-bent. Her voice is both fragile and fearless, threading its way through the track with a hurt that is deeply personal yet universally recognized. "Closer" is a confrontation with one's own craving, a hushed conversation between desire and constraint.
Each verse opens here with the poignancy of a confession, evoking an unforgettable battle between connection and independence, and then uncorks an inky lament that reveals just how bitter a fight it really is. Kaylif dissects the experience of belonging to something too much while understanding the price of coming too close. The outcome is a very human, nearly spiritual meditation with the pulse of contemporary indie rock. "Closer" is the sort of song that sticks with you because it dares to be quiet with its power. Layla Kaylif has made an alt-pop poem that draws you in slowly, but just won't let go.