Osie Finds Growth Beyond Destructive Attachment On Debut EP, “sown”
“Light dances between/Spaces where our skin meets/Tell you I'm leaving/Whisper your last sweet nothing.’ Rose “Osie” Kaplan’s opening track, “last nothing,” resonates as delicately as any early dawn goodbye. Their vocals echo through a hazy soundscape of resonant guitar strumming and a weightless, meditative ambience that taps into the smothered memories of one’s mind.
What seems to be the swift conclusion of a relationship is only the beginning of Osie’s debut EP, sown. The alternative rock artist recorded and produced the collection of five songs in their bedroom before its official release on June 11, an event they claimed in a short and sweet Instagram caption was an “emotional release” and closing of a chapter.
Over the past three years, the NorCal musician has established a wistful tone through consistently soothing melodies and honest songwriting. Most prevalent in past singles like “sweet lies” and “easy christmas,” they’ve weaved their candid yearning into the fabric of every song they’ve produced thus far into their career (apart from “yoinky sploinky,” a piece that’s very special in its own unique! way), and their latest work is a developed extension of it. Continuous use of vocal distortion brings additional texture to recent pieces like “time” and "afterlife,” acting as a tool to blur the line between hearing the music and experiencing it. With their latest EP, sown, Osie’s created their own Tiny-Desk-esque environment–a safe, intimate musical atmosphere that they’ve welcomed listeners to sit and wallow in.
Fittingly titled “time,” the following track on the EP envelops listeners in a melancholic introspection as Osie processes the impermanence of life and love. “Time keeps splitting up/And I don’t know where I fall/But will you catch me when I do? Will I be in debt to you?” Hushed vocals and a relaxed rhythm are evocative of Alex G’s signature lo-fi inflection. “I know everyone gets let down/But I still hope you’ll stick around.” Its naive viewpoint comes from a young person who hasn’t figured out—or hasn’t yet accepted—that this figure’s absence from their life may be what’s best for them. “Time” also includes a personal favorite lyric: “Moments passed me swift/Somewhere out there I exist/Who am I to label it?”
I don’t care if it’s “too soon” to say Osie’s the lyricist of our generation—I’m saying it anyway.
At first listen, the crunchy quality of the EP’s third track, “afterlife,” immerses the audience in a faraway mirage–circa 2005, grainy pixels of soft light peeking through the curtains of one’s childhood living room, using a Nintendo DS to record their sibling’s indie rock band practice. But beneath the tone of somber innocence lies simultaneously bleak and lewd descriptions of unhealthy attachment. “Drown me in problems/They’re yours but I'll solve em'/It’s bringing me down/But it's worth it I promise,” the concerning lyrics are sung along to a dotted, bouncy melody—similar to a whimsical music box. Phrases such as “make me a mother” and “Dig your nails in/Until you break the skin/Can we get any closer?” bring to mind a familiar theme of their 2024 single “inside,” showing a pattern of sexual intimacy feeding the bond they’ve formed with an emotionally harmful partner. “Afterlife” is not the first time the narrator’s prioritized their devotion to this figure over their own wellbeing, and considering the song’s final lyrics, “I don't care If I die like this/isn't that morbid?/Give me more of it/I don't care how much life I miss,” they hadn’t planned on it being their last.
Once listeners have settled into their emotions, hummed to rest by the soothing lullaby that is Kaplan’s voice, they’re met with the soft, electronic beats of remaining tracks “genuinequestion” and “twinklebug.” Fresh production of the final two songs fuses their lively pulses with gentle, floating pop vocals. “Baby, how’d you do this to me?” The question repeats throughout the entire song, chopped and looped to create an addictive stuttering effect. “Twinklebug” closes the album with an optimistic anticipation for what may come next for Osie, with the reassuring company of fellow musicians—Hannah (bass) and Leon (drums)—who back them on tour. “I kinda like bein' on my own/Still got the people that I hold/Dearest to me.” After the majority of the extended play had been spent mulling over relationship anxieties, it concludes with a “fuck it, we ball” mindset as the 20-something-year-old goes on to live out their dream with their friends. “Telling my band, let's hit the road/Cutting the cords, I'm seeing how things go.”
Osie’s sown offers us the perspective of a deep soul processing difficult dynamics and life transitions, exposing vulnerable truths that would typically be left to smudge between anyone else’s diary pages. Though the EP’s visual aesthetics imply a double entendre, the literal definition of “sown” means to “scatter or plant seeds in the ground for future growth,” and as they say: the only way out is through. After mourning an overly idealized version of their relationship, the singer can come to understand why they missed them and how the experience has affected their present life. By releasing these thoughts and feelings into the world, Osie’s set themself free, and inadvertently provided a comforter for those who are further behind in their acceptance journey.