There’s a moment when you’ve been telling yourself it’s all casual. Just some flirty little spark, nothing more. And then—fuck—you catch yourself falling. That’s where Falllands. SMOORIBA spins it out soft and teasing, all plucky guitars and that spacey, floating synth vibe. It creeps in slowly, wraps around you like a messy hookup turning serious before you even realize you gave him your number.
She’s only twenty, but SMOORIBA’s already pulling her sound straight from that chaotic, addictive corner of your twenties. Raised in the Midlands, settled into London’s alt-pop scene now, she’s making this sharp little mix of early 2000s hyper-pop and punk—the kind that feels like Paramore flirted with Avril Lavigne and accidentally made a soundtrack for your next bad decision. You hear it in Fall, but what gets me most is how she flips the whole love song cliché on its ass. It’s not about butterflies. It’s about that wicked little smirk you give when you know it’s reckless and still dive in.
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She lays it out with the first line—Life’s short, he’s sweet, maybe we could rewrite history. That’s the dangerous part. That little whisper that this one’s different and we won’t set the whole damn thing on fire. But even when she sings, we’re better off as friends. I know how this one ends, you hear the temptation crawling under her voice.
The chorus is a mix of heat and hesitation, intertwined. Now he’s watching me fall… oh oh oh…—like she’s half-mocking herself for getting hooked again, half already picturing how his hands feel when they slide up under her skirt at 2 am.
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And let’s talk about that second verse, because she fought the heat—but we both know how that goes. You can wrestle with it all you want, but once he’s got that foot stopping the door, pressed right by the wall, you’re fucked. Literally or figuratively depends on how long you pretend to keep your cool. She says I’m tempted to walk right through and not look behind me, and yeah… we’ve all been there, peeling off the yellow caution crime scene tape with a wink and no intention of stopping.
Produced by BadFriends, who’ve been sliding into London’s scene lately, Fall kicks off SMOORIBA’s four-track summer series, and each release is getting its own little 3D art moment, lyric vids, and the kind of social content designed to live rent-free on your feed. Behind all that, she’s stacking sessions with names like Bobby Harvey, Vanes, Skaiwater, and Andrew Bates—the same crew tangled up with Atlantic, SM, Warner Chappell. Over 100 tracks brewing. Weekly sessions booked straight into autumn. Yeah, she’s grinding.
Fall hits now. It hits soft, sneaky, dangerous—the way falling always does when you know better and still let it happen. When she closes it with I’m gonna jump in with everyone watching, yeah, I’ll be the one that dared to fall in love again, it doesn’t sound naïve. It sounds bold, as if falling’s the whole point, even when you know the landing’s gonna bruise.
