ANGELICA, the Colombian-born, New Yorker— wait, wasn’t she a dancer? Yes, was. Now, she’s singing, and her latest single, “Lincoln Pl,” produced by Marrick Smith and Ian Kimmel, dropped. And my first thought, unbidden, was: Why do pigeons always bob their heads?
Anyway, “Lincoln Pl.” It’s a pop/R&B concoction, with a dreamy synth that makes you think you’re floating, until ANGELICA’s voice, all grounded and earthy, pulls you back. It’s like discovering a lost chapter of One Hundred Years of Solitude, if Gabriel García Márquez had a Spotify account and a penchant for heartache.
This song isn’t sunshine and rainbows. Oh no. It’s about love gone sour, betrayal, the kind that leaves a residue thicker than NYC humidity in July. It’s a musical rendition of that gut-wrenching “aha!” moment, when you realize your “forever” was just a fleeting mirage.
Two-timing, the lyrics. Ouch, It also the rug pull of realizing someone the spaker thought as a friend had something to do.
The lyrics chart this awful cartography of disappointment, a map from blissful ignorance to the stark, brutal truth of infidelity. ANGELICA isn’t just singing; she’s conducting a masterclass in the acceptance of deception, the cruel art of letting go.
The fusion of genres somehow…works. You’re expecting the beat to drop into full-blown pop territory, but it hovers, almost hesitantly, mirroring the song’s thematic ambivalence. The soundscape complements the song´s thematic content.
Is it catchy? Yes. Will it make you rethink every relationship you’ve ever had? Probably. And for a moment, makes me think.
“Lincoln Pl” might make you bob more than just your head—perhaps your entire perspective on trust and vulnerability. But, is it forever? Or just until the next song starts playing?
