When I first listened to “More or Less,” it didn’t hit me like a lightning bolt—it was quieter than that. It is the kind of song that eases into your space and lingers, like the afterglow of a tough conversation. It’s soft, airy pop with a late-night feel—but underneath the pretty surface, this powerful emotional current pulls you under in the gentlest way.
Femi sings about that complicated love—the kind where doing what’s best for someone might mean stepping away. And isn’t that the hardest kind of love to give? That moment when your heart’s screaming stay, but your gut knows that leaving is the right thing to do.
The line “If all I have to do is more than loving you, and all I have to lose is less than losing you…”—I had to pause and replay that. It felt like the emotional math we never want to calculate, but sometimes we have to. I’ve been there. We all have. It’s that moment where caring for someone means respecting their boundaries, even when every part of you wants to override them.
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What gets me is how Femi handles all this with such grace. His voice doesn’t beg or dramatize—it just glides. You can feel the ache beneath every word, and it’s the storytelling that lands. It’s intimate. Controlled. Heartbreakingly clear.
The verses sketch out a familiar story: a call late at night, a plea for comfort, the pull of something half-healed. “You cry and say you’re not sober / But if you’re calling me over / Don’t hate me, but…” That kind of line cuts deep because it feels so real.
And then the refusal—gentle but firm. “No, I won’t stay there overnight / Even if you turn down the light…” Femi’s not judging. He’s loving, just in the way the other person truly needs, even if they don’t see it yet.
It’s not a song about running away. It’s about showing up for someone in the most selfless way—by not giving in to temporary comfort but instead protecting something bigger.
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Femi has always had a knack for writing songs that feel personal, and “More or Less” is no different. It’s immersive, emotionally articulate, and just devastating in its honesty.
If you haven’t met Femi yet, this is the perfect place to start. A singer, songwriter, and producer from Congers, NY, he began playing piano in church and later made waves under the name Frank Pierce before reclaiming his real name and sound. Now, with a few standout singles under his belt and his first EP 2020 on the way, he’s opening a new chapter—and it’s beautifully, vulnerably him.
Put this one on when thinking about someone you love—especially if loving them means letting go.
