Images Courtesy of FRAZES CREATIVE, Amber Asaly, Aysia Marotta

An album born of a ‘sad gurl’ that found her smile—Delacey's Black Coffee is made for dark times churning towards light. Bitter-sweet, gritty, raw, unfiltered—what could be more appropriate to get us through these trying times? "I almost feel guilty," apologized Delacey, "to be releasing something so frivolous as an LP when there are such serious needs in the world," said the artist in light of the current COVID-19 pandemic. But we couldn't disagree more. What's a greater gift to the grieving hearts of the globe than art?

Delacey's debut album Black Coffee not only resonates with the current emotional temperature, it characterizes the strife of another major point. Although she's a California native, the album was actually written last year during time spent living in NYC. An unprecedented low moment in her life—just like New York, and many other cities around the world are experiencing now. She describes the overall arc of the album as a narrative window into that time. Written in just three short weeks, it depicts a pivotal transition.

"I was getting out of one of the most toxic relationships I had ever been in. I mean, to the point of needing a restraining order", explains Delacey. "Simultaneously, I was also beginning to fall in love with an amazing man, that was really good for me." (Who's also been providing quarantine solace in these troubling times.) "I was lost. I was broke. I was pained. It was a very dark time."

The artist had moved to New York for clarity—unsure if she even wanted to continue pursuing music. With little funds and even less certainty, she began work with renowned producer and friend, Ido Zmishlany. (An industry giant bragging credits from Shawn Mendes to the Chainsmokers.) At the end of her time in New York City, not only had she re-centered—she had fully written and recorded the project Black Coffee.

Delacey boasts a rich history of musical credits, from her vocal singles, to written works for top artists such as Halsey, Demi Lovato, Zara Larsen, and more. In fact, the lyrical muse can be linked to over 1.5 million streams of work she has penned. However, Black Coffee is her first album. The debut LP features 13 songs, all solo tracks--save for two. “Break up Slow Dance”--a two step prom duet with Valley Boy, and “Cruel Intentions”—the smoldering hot feature with G Eazy. (Make sure to watch the video later. Woof.)

Sonically and lyrically, the album Black Coffee is a soulful tapestry, that wraps you up in a moody blanket of emotion. Acoustic guitar, high hat hits, melodic piano riffs, and creamy vocals. Raw, real, gorgeously grungy, with meandering minor keys and sultry reverberations leading to major musical and spiritual resolutions. Songs like, “Sad Gurl, The Subway Song, Actress” and “Too Poor to Live in La”—paint the cross coastal journey of a life on the verge of physical change. While “My Man, Black Coffee” and “Chapel”, showcase the emotional evolution of her romantic relationships and the artist herself.

Delacey projects the most honest intentions and desires that oft cross our minds, yet we dare not speak—yet alone sing. "Bitch don't steal my man." "Kinda wanna jump your bones, and lock you down." "I like sex, I like flowers, I like attention." "We do shrooms and watch MTV." To be real, (which we figure Delacey would whole heartedly approve of), It's really f*cking refreshing. But she goes beyond shock value, artfully wrapping lyrical jolts in velvet and placing them alongside heart-wrenching truths.

"So tell me I'm not dreaming. I like the way you see me, yet no-one ever sees me, I'm still a little bitter," croones, Delacey on the chorus of her title track, “Black Coffee”. This is the jewel of the album, with an accompanying video also dropping today. As an artist, Delacey explains that visual experience is equally important to auditory. And we agree. There aren’t words to just neatly wrap-up Black Coffee—it needs to be experienced.

Whether Delacey is singing about being in a theatre on her knees, or the driving desire of just wanting to be home, the depth and maturity of her music shines in her unapologetic truth. It purveys a flicker of hope. This album is a gift to all of us coping, grieving, struggling, celebrating—losing our shit. It's the therapeutic answer to our cries for connection. It's a glimmering testament to growth. In this bitter moment, Black Coffee is just what we need—perfectly poured and right on time.