Imagine being the only person at a wedding who knows the groom is a liar. You’d be watching him say his vows, watching her cry happy tears, watching everyone celebrate, and sitting there with this information that would detonate the whole thing. You could say something. You tried to say something. He made sure nobody would believe you. So now you’re just watching this man build a marriage on a foundation that’s already cracked and she has no fucking clue she’s tying herself to someone who tried to cheat on her before they even got engaged. That’s the nightmare Kirrilee is living through on ‘Janelle,’ her dark indie pop confession about the man who propositioned her while his fiancée was busy planning their future. This Melbourne artist turns witnessing manipulation into a haunting letter asking one simple question: when are you going to tell her the truth?
The track opens with Kirrilee watching him watching Janelle, and the observation cuts deep. “Know you see the way she looks at you / but there you go again you had to spoil the view.” She’s looking at him like he invented oxygen and this man cannot be bothered. Every single time there’s a perfect moment, you fuck it up. Every time. The production here is moody and atmospheric layered over diary-entry honesty that feels like reading someone’s group chat at 3am. Kirrilee’s vocals are intimate and direct, like she’s telling you this story over tequila shots, except the story is about a man who’s about to trap someone in a marriage built on secrets.
Then comes the gut punch. “I know you know that she deserves the world / your eyes too busy wandering to even be concerned.” Deep down you know she’s too fucking good for you and you still can’t act right. She’s standing RIGHT THERE and your eyes are already on someone else. That’s the thing about guys like this. They know their partner is incredible. They know she’s giving them everything. They’re just too selfish to care enough to be faithful. The way Kirrilee delivers these lines feels both exhausted and furious, like she’s spent months watching this train wreck happen in slow motion.
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The pre-chorus shifts to the wedding, and Kirrilee’s passive aggression is chef’s kiss. “Heard you’re getting married on a beach / when you say your vows hope you practice what you preach.” Oh great, a beach wedding. Because lies look better with a sunset backdrop. How are you gonna say “forsaking all others” with a straight face after what you pulled? She follows it with “But I’ve got a feeling she doesn’t know / the way you were behaving not even a year ago.” She doesn’t know SHIT about who you really are. You were trying to fuck me less than a year ago. Now you’re buying wedding rings. Insane.
Here’s where Kirrilee gets specific about what actually happened. “When you pulled me aside / told me you wanted to go there / and if I decide / you’d leave her in the dust.” You really cornered me and said you wanted to hook up. While engaged. The audacity. “I’ll dump her for you” isn’t the flex you think it is, babe. The man literally offered to abandon his fiancée if Kirrilee said yes. That’s the kind of proposal that should come with a restraining order, yet here we are, and he’s getting married like nothing happened.
The chorus is Kirrilee asking the question she knows will never get answered. “When you gonna tell Janelle? / you know I really wish you both so well / I don’t think you can say the same.” WHEN are you telling her? Genuinely asking. I actually want her to be happy. You just want whatever serves you. Then comes the lyric that made me physically wince: “So before you tie the knot around her neck / won’t you tell Janelle?” “Around her neck” like a fucking noose. This lyric is dark as hell. Marriage as a trap when you’re marrying someone who’s been lying since day one? That’s exactly what this is.
The second verse is where Kirrilee establishes the moral high ground and fucking owns it. “I could never do the things you did / try’na get between my sheets / while she’s talking ’bout a kid.” I couldn’t sleep at night doing what you’re doing. She’s talking about having your CHILD and you’re trying to cheat. Disgusting. The juxtaposition here is visceral. Janelle is literally planning their family while he’s actively pursuing someone else. Then Kirrilee drops “Rejecting you was such an easy thing / always thought you’d ‘fess up / now she’s wearing that ring.” Saying no to you was the easiest decision I’ve made all year. I really thought your conscience would kick in. Instead you proposed.
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Kirrilee, this pansexual Melbourne artist and designer who crafts pop music for romantics and overthinkers, wrote ‘Janelle’ after a moment that shook her to the core. A man with a soon-to-be fiancée tried to cheat with her while Janelle was dreaming out loud about forever, kids, building a life with him. Kirrilee shut it down immediately and told him to come clean. He promised he would, then married Janelle without ever saying a word. This song is her letter to him, asking if he’ll ever tell the truth or if he’s content living as the coward he proved himself to be. With over 40,000 streams and a debut EP called ‘Dreaming and Other Dangerous Behaviour,’ Kirrilee writes with the kind of honesty that makes strangers feel seen. She blends glittery synths with emotionally rich lyrics that hit like a late-night overthink and echo long after they end.
The bridge is where the manipulation gets exposed in full. “I can’t believe the story that you’ve spun / prince charming husband looking for some fun.” You’ve rewritten the whole fucking story and everyone believes you. Playing perfect fiancé while actively shopping for side pieces. Kirrilee sounds genuinely amazed at the audacity, like she can’t believe he pulled it off. Then she gets reflective: “I wonder if you ever felt bad / that you had her whole heart in the palm of your hand.” Does it ever hit you that she’d do anything for you and you’re treating her like trash?
The final verse is the most devastating because it reveals Kirrilee tried to warn Janelle and got gaslit for it. “And don’t think I didn’t go try to tell her / but every move I made / you always seemed to have a counter.” I TRIED to tell her. Multiple times. Every time I got close to exposing you, you had a lie locked and loaded. Then comes the manipulation that let him win: “Told her that I wasn’t to be trusted / and that was all it took for you to get away with everything.” You flipped the script and made me the crazy one. Classic manipulator shit. One lie about me and boom, you’re off the hook. That easily
where I knew someone was lying, watched friend groups celebrate relationships I knew were doomed, smiled through toasts for people I knew were cheating. You keep your mouth shut because what’s the alternative? Blow up someone’s happiness with information they’re not ready to hear? Kirrilee tried that. She rejected him, told him to come clean, watched him promise he would, then watched him marry Janelle anyway without ever saying a word. This track is cinematic and cloud-soaked and unafraid to dig deep. It’s messy, honest, way too relatable. Kirrilee turned the helplessness of knowing someone’s secret into dark indie pop that feels like your group chat got leaked. The question “when you gonna tell Janelle?” hangs in the air long after the song ends, and we all know the answer. He’s never going to tell her. That’s the whole fucking problem.
