It’s not every day an EP from an early twenties indie pop singer-songwriter arrives sounding this bold, witty, and fully formed. Love Me Please punches far above its weight, carrying the sonic polish and emotional sharpness of an artist twice Chloe Slater’s age. In just five tracks, she delivers a self-aware, emotionally literate, and sonically ambitious project that balances dry and observational monologues with soaring hooks that refuse to play small. The opener Tiny Screens explodes with glitchy electro squall, a stomping rock beat and a melodic hook that lodges itself deep in your brain. The production throughout is sleek, modern, and expressive widescreen maximalism, rich with reverb and layered textures, but still intimate enough to let her personality shine. Slater’s vocals flit between clear-eyed vulnerability and confident, emotive choruses, and these songs are packed with observational detail and deadpan sarcasm, the kind of internal monologues you rarely hear outside of a personal diary or late-night voice note rant.

She rolls her eyes at billionares who hoard wealth instead of using it for good on Sucker, skewers pretentious men with self-aggrandising taste on We’re Not The Same, and pulls the rug from under beauty culture on Fig Tree with striking elegance, listing wellness routines, running apps, clean eating regimens, skincare obsessions and Pilates classes as a critique of how these forms of ‘self-care’ have become just another prison. It’s a poetic takedown of the tyranny of the hyper-optimised, hyper-visible life that’s empowering, cathartic, and delivered with a compassionate and necessary authenticity. Slater tells you exactly what it’s like to be a young woman in the 2020s, speaking with clarity and conviction, and feeling like a true original.