A good love song sneaks up on you—one moment, you’re just listening, and the next, you’re somewhere else entirely, reliving a memory you thought you’d packed away. Maybe it’s a voice, a chord change, or just how the words linger, pulling you back to something you swore would last forever… until it didn’t.
Advertisement
Songs like Dan Fogelberg’s Same Old Lang Syne and Don Henley’s Boys of Summer capture this longing effortlessly, weaving melodies that make us feel as if we, too, are standing in the past, watching it dissolve like mist in the morning sun. Genre and era don’t matter—whether it’s a soft rock ballad from the ’70s or a modern indie rock tune, we all recognize the sentiment. And that’s precisely the emotional weight music journalist turned pop music artist Alwyn Morrison’s Lenox Hill carries, wrapping nostalgia and yearning into a deeply personal and universally familiar song.
Framed by the charm of one of New York’s most storied neighborhoods, Lenox Hill weaves a poignant tale of love and loss. The melodic piano makes it feel like a late-night memory slipping back into focus, while the lyrics carry the weight of things left unsaid. As the song unfolds, it stirs up those unfinished stories—the kind you revisit when a familiar scent or an old song sneaks up on you, pulling you back to a moment you once thought would last forever.
Morrison collaborated on Lenox Hill with his friend Michael Kooman, a gifted composer whose work has graced projects alongside industry greats like Audra McDonald. Michael Carey, known for his work with Gwen Stefani and Pablo Alborán, keeps the production crisp but never overbearing.
Advertisement
Harlan Hodges’ piano work shapes the song, adding movement and emotion in an almost conversational way. You can hear it in the way he lingers on certain notes, letting them settle before shifting to the next phrase. There’s a looseness to his playing; he feels every chord rather than just performing it.
Morrison’s performance is earnest, more like a lovelorn’s open letter to his unrequited love than a pop singer merely interpreting a song’s meaning. You get the feeling Morrison has experienced this—is experiencing this—which makes the song seem more authentic.





