Lola Consuelos balances poise and bruise on “Sorry, It’s All About Me,” a tidy five-song quake.
Old painters say the boldest self-portrait isn’t the one that flatters—it’s the one that refuses to blink. “Sorry, It’s All About Me EP” proves Lola Consuelos understands that principle instinctively: five songs, neatly trimmed yet emotionally unruly, where Adult Contemporary polish and alt-pop appetite meet the nervous honesty of a diary that’s been edited for stage lights. New York-born but now London-based, she carries two cities in her phrasing—Manhattan directness in the punchlines, and a certain London nocturne in the negative space between beats. The EP’s production feels intentionally “clean,” yet never sterile. Synths, riffs and piano arrive as architecture rather than ornament, while drums stay cozy enough to let her voice do the heavy lifting. Indeed, the arrangements are disciplined: hooks are present, but they don’t mug for attention; they hover, persuasive, a little smug. Lyrically, Lola writes with a self-surveillance that’s almost cinematic—she doesn’t just feel something, she watches herself feeling it, then reports the evidence with a calm that lands harder than shouting.
“Lola” opens as a poised thesis statement—shimmering keys, gentle drums, and a regal glide that makes emotional boundaries sound elegant. However, the lyric bite is unmistakable: broken promises, manipulation, gaslighting—named without melodrama, which somehow makes the refusal to wait feel final, almost legal. “Hypochondriac” brightens the palette with its sparky drum, while keeping the bruise visible; the upbeat energy clashes with anxious confession, and that tension becomes the hook. In fact, the song’s self-awareness doesn’t cure the spiral—it simply narrates it in HD. “Not Like You” turns the room lights down. Pumping beats anchor the track, glossy melodies ripple above, and her vocal softens into post-decision reflection—less confrontation, more aftermath. Moreover, “End of The World” crackles with early-twenties apocalypse thinking: fear and excitement braided together, stakes inflated because the heart hasn’t learned proportion yet. Then “Sexier” snaps the EP’s final photo with a grin—pop confidence, witty lines, and a smirking delivery that reclaims power through irony rather than revenge.
In addition, the project’s real charm is how human it feels: messy thoughts, carefully arranged. You finish the EP feeling slightly braver—cleaner in your boundaries, louder in your inner voice, and oddly tempted to dance while overthinking.
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Old painters say the boldest self-portrait isn’t the one that flatters—it’s the one that refuses to blink. “Sorry, It’s All About Me EP” proves Lola Consuelos understands that principle instinctively: five songs…