Hooked on Rewind by Lacey Lune
- Arashk Azizi
- 5 days ago
- 3 min read
Hooked on Rewind is a short but emotionally potent journey through heartbreak, decadence, and renewal. Across six songs, Lacey Lune turns the language of love into both confession and theatre, a cycle of losing, remembering, and rediscovering oneself.
The heart wants what it wants, and sometimes it just gets hooked. Sometimes it rewinds, reliving the same story until it finally learns to let go. Lune’s music thrives in that space, between pain and humor, between longing and power, where emotion and irony coexist.
The EP draws from retro-soul and alternative pop textures, yet what stands out most is her voice: expressive, and sultry. If Lola Young comes to mind at first listen, Lacey quickly carves her own signature, one that is more cinematic, playful, and unrestrained. Her vocal delivery moves from whispered intimacy to commanding declaration, as if she’s performing both sides of an argument, the one we have with love, and the one we have with ourselves.
Hooked on Rewind, Track by Track
The title track, “Hooked on Rewind,” opens with a memorable line — “Breaking up with you again, last time, last time.” From the start, we’re caught in a loop of love and release. Emerson Dameron’s poetic interludes act like inner commentary, half confession, half revelation, they act as manifestations: “Free to love, free to let go.” Lune’s voice moves between sensual and defiant, while the brass at the end dissolves into a whisper, as if closing a cinematic scene.
“Hopeless,” a cover of the Wrens’ song, carries the emotional tone forward but through a different soundscape. It keeps a vintage edge with synths, steady bass, and spacious drums, creating a mood that feels nostalgic rather than mournful. “And now you’re sorry for the things you did to me,” she sings, with a tone that suggests she’s already moved past the sorrow and is now observing it from a distance.
“Designer Disease” dives into darker, more psychological territory. Its lyrics, “My kink is regret,” cut through layers of desire and self-awareness. It’s an exploration of emotional addiction, of how love can turn into something both intoxicating and corrosive. The music mirrors that duality with pulsing rhythm and simmering tension beneath the vocal line.
My favorite piece of the album, “I Missed Midnight Mass (A Very Decadent Xmas),” is the EP’s most striking and audacious track. It opens with trembling strings and builds into a scene of wild contrast, religion, lust, irony, and heartbreak all intertwined. “I wore the red dress and made your ex cry,” she utters, setting the tone of scandal and self-mockery! The lyricism mixes sacred and profane, morning regret and night-time confession. “I slept the midnight mass, but you came on time, you said I’m not the present but I let you unwrap mine.” It’s vivid, witty, and deeply human, a song that makes vulnerability sound triumphant. The music keeps up with the lyrics, it creates a provocative mood with a steady beat while keeping keeping an emotional side through sentimental melody lines and counter melodies.
“Strawberry Blonde” lightens the tone, and Lune’s delivery softens without losing her edge. It feels like a slow return to balance after the chaos, a quiet smile in the aftermath of heartbreak.
The closing track, “Love Comes to Me,” is a tender ballad that lets the story end on a note of acceptance. After all the irony, rebellion, and emotional noise, it feels like surrender, not defeat, but peace. The song lingers on its final words, leaving the listener suspended in a calm after the storm.
Final Thoughts
With Hooked on Rewind, Lacey Lune proves herself not only as a singer but as a storyteller of contradictions, romantic yet sardonic, glamorous yet self-aware. Her songwriting reveals a poet who understands that heartbreak is not just about pain, but about transformation; that nostalgia can be both poison and medicine.
This EP may be short, but it carries the emotional weight of a full narrative arc. It’s an album for those who have loved too much, laughed through tears, and learned that sometimes the most powerful act is simply pressing play again, even when we already know the ending.
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