Jessica Smyth, aka Biig Piig just dropped her debut album 11:11, and it is a slow-burning, intoxicating collection that feels like a stolen kiss under neon lights—both euphoric and laced with longing. The opening track, 4AM, sways in with a hypnotic disco rise, setting the stage for an artist fully embracing her role as a sad-banger queen. Gone is the experimental wanderlust of her earlier work; in its place is a fully-formed sonic seduction, one that thrives on the push and pull of desire, the pulse of the dancefloor, and the heady nostalgia of a night that stretches endlessly before dissolving into morning. The album channels the same sultry magnetism that elevated the likes of Dua Lipa and Jessie Ware, infusing its genre-blurring DNA with newfound polish and consistency. Tracks like Decimal and 9-5 transport listeners to the dimly lit, sweat-slicked spaces of East London’s underground scene, while Ponytail and I Keep Losing Sleep smolder with a hushed, after-hours intensity, their beats curling around the listener like whispered secrets.
What makes 11:11 truly irresistible is its seamless duality—its ability to flirt between the high-energy hedonism of a night out and the soft vulnerability that follows. Tracks like Stay Home and One Way Ticket pull us into Biig Piig’s bedroom-pop roots, offering a moment of introspective intimacy before plunging back into the shimmering euphoria of the club. The album mirrors the arc of a perfect night—one that begins with heady anticipation, crests with reckless abandon, and finally exhales into the bittersweet calm of dawn. It’s a journey wrapped in sensual beats and dreamy vocals, where even heartbreak feels like something you’d dance to.
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The album’s bookends hold its most poignant truths. It opens with 4AM, a sigh of resignation to loneliness, and closes with Better Days, a glimmer of hope in the form of a hushed, reassuring promise. “No, you’re not alone,” Biig Piig sings, her voice melting into the darkness as the final notes fade. It’s an intoxicating end to a whirlwind of a record—one that lingers on the skin, warm and electric, long after the last beat has dropped.
Lyrically, 11:11 finds Biig Piig at her most personal and reflective. Across the album’s runtime, she navigates themes of self-discovery, heartache, and fleeting euphoria with a sense of vulnerability wrapped in effortlessly cool delivery. Favourite Girl stands out as a highlight, a pulsing, flirtatious groove infused with 80s-inspired funk, while 9-5 channels that same energy with a slick, urban disco sheen. Meanwhile, Decimal feels like the moment the club comes alive—sweaty bodies moving in rhythm, glances exchanged across the room, every lyric dripping in sultry confidence.
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The album also nods to Biig Piig’s multicultural influences, weaving Spanish lyrics into its intricate soundscape, a reminder of her fluid approach to genre and identity. This multilingual touch deepens the album’s sensuality, offering a hypnotic contrast to the driving beats beneath her voice.
Sonically, the album’s production is masterfully layered—balancing the crisp, contemporary polish of electronic pop with the warmth of analog textures. The beats reverberate like distant heartbeats, while synths shimmer and pulse with a seductive glow. This interplay of electronic precision and organic warmth makes 11:11 feel both futuristic and deeply intimate, like the perfect night out where reality and fantasy blur together in a haze of neon and desire.
If Bubblegum was an exploration of sound and identity, 11:11 is Biig Piig stepping fully into her artistry, confident and unafraid to push boundaries. It’s an album that seduces, lingers, and intoxicates—just like the nights it seeks to capture. With this debut, Biig Piig isn’t just making music; she’s crafting an experience, a world of flashing lights, whispered confessions, and that deliciously reckless feeling of surrendering to the rhythm. And as Better Days fades out, leaving behind its final, lingering promise, one thing is certain—Biig Piig is an artist fully in her element, and 11:11 is a testament to her undeniable magnetism.
