Maria Lane returns with her sophomore album Kiss Me, I’m Haunted—ten tracks that paint an unflinchingly precise portrait of modern loneliness. In her hands, familiar conceptual themes bloom into new, almost painful shades. The songs carry the cool sensation of touch against skin, while her soaring voice creates the illusion of chasing ghosts that should have long since dissolved into the past.

Modern loneliness is the phenomenon Lane dissects with surgical precision. Fleeting connections, being at the center of attention while emotionally detached, the haunting of intrusive thoughts and the ghosts of memory—all become symbols of a new kind of solitude. It manifests even among friends, at parties, in relationships. The pursuit of happiness turns into an ordeal for those coming of age in an era of total connectedness and total detachment.

photo by Meghan Marshall

All of these themes find their reflection in the sensual dark pop album Kiss Me, I’m Haunted. The ten tracks lead the listener through misty, cold-blue tones of longing, revealing the lyrical and vulnerable side of Lane’s artistry—the one that has always been there but has never laid its nerves so bare.

The album opens almost ritualistically with the title track, “kiss me, i’m haunted.” The mystically tender vocals float within the melody, evoking a near-physical melancholy—the kind that tightens the chest and turns breath shallow. The intricate harmonies and minor chords embed themselves instantly in the mind, conjuring images of forgotten touches and unspoken words. Then, “if you touch me” offers a lighter track, its gentle guitar and echo-dissolving vocals providing a sense of calm. The shift in atmosphere is deliberate and exact—Lane knows when to let the listener breathe before pulling them back into depth.

The track “ghost” captivates with a sound both unique and mesmerizing. Lane fuses seemingly incompatible harmonies, reaching experimental intersections between different musical traditions. She approaches sound instinctively, guided by intuition, knowing precisely how it must unfold to convey the emotional state she seeks to capture. This is demanding creative work—balancing the accessibility of pop with the ambition of artistic experimentation—and Lane performs it with virtuosity.

“take away my sins (wash me away)” marks a striking turn in tone. Its minimalist arrangement awakens the senses, carrying an almost meditative rhythm. The vocals and cool-toned electronic textures generate a hypnotic sense of dissolution. This approach turns the album toward a more intimate atmosphere, gradually building tension for the luminous finale. Here, Lane strips her voice bare, leaving it almost unprotected by arrangement—one of the album’s boldest gestures.

“held me after” brings us back into Lane’s dreamlike pop universe. Soft keys merge with sensual guitar glimmers, and Lane’s voice floats through the melody with a healing, consoling quality. In a world defined by unstable bonds and fleeting attachments, Lane’s music wraps the listener in care, understanding, and solace—it gives what her songs’ characters so desperately seek.

The album closes with “love me like it’s breathing,” a piece imbued with Lane’s characteristic sonic opulence and depth. The sound feels cloudlike, unraveling into gentle layers of pop haze, vocal shimmer, and echo. Using minimal instrumentation, Lane paints like an impressionist—through subtle tones, cool hues of echo and mist, and soft layers of backing vocals. Yet “love me like it’s breathing” carries a quiet sense of hope—the hope that this encounter might end the loneliness and become the one. Fragile as it may be, the hope remains, and Lane allows it to exist, fully aware of its illusion.

photo by Meghan Marshall

Kiss Me, I’m Haunted unfolds with the gravity of a nocturnal ceremony, all movements sculpted in deliberate motion and hushed devotion. The gothic density that once marked Black and Blue now expands into something grander—an architecture of echo and pulse, where any vibration feels suspended in smoke and candlelight. Maria Lane and her enduring creative partner Justin Meyer construct sound as if designing sacred space, balancing restraint with an almost tactile sensuality. Kiss Me, I’m Haunted inhabits a realm of exquisite control, revealing its layers through patience and precision, a slow, magnetic revelation that enshrines emotion in form. All bars and whispered textures contribute to a work that feels absolute—an act of devotion rendered through sound.

The way it seems, Maria hadn’t planned to release a record this year, so the appearance of a full-length album feels more like a creative improvisation than a calculated marketing move. In this context, the surprise release comes across as pure inspiration, free from any external concepts — just music released precisely when it had truly ‘ripened.’

“Kiss Me, I’m Haunted” is a collection of exquisite tracks framed in the silky lace of Lane’s voice. Close your eyes, and you feel a subtle hypnosis, tension, and inner shock — across ten tracks, the music contracts and erupts. “Kiss Me, I’m Haunted” carries its own spark — a quiet resistance to darkness, an inner rebellion, and, most importantly, desire, unlike the debut “Black and Blue.” At the same time, it radiates love, a warm light at the end of the tunnel. The record breathes with a stormy atmosphere, leaving a sense of uneasy beauty, dampness, and tension, showcasing Lane’s mastery in full force and transforming personal experiences into a complete, mature work of art.

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