Milly Edwards a 17 year old female singer songwriter from South Wales, UK. Milly started learning the guitar when she was 15. She began writing songs and then producing them on her iPad which she still uses. Inspired by Billie Eilish, music is also an important release valve for Milly’s depression and anxiety afflictions. Both universal and as personal as a fingerprint, “Coaster” is a minimalist indie track freshly dropped only days ago. The song is dreamy, vulnerable and urgent, all at the same time. It’s one of those rare, songs that expresses a melancholy comfort in the midst of emotional devastation.
Milly Edwards’ voice has a vulnerable lilt, almost disbelieving, while the acoustic guitar that surrounds her is warm and soothing. After almost three minutes, the singing stops, and then the guitar slowly fades out – no happy ending, no resolution, just doubts and questions remain, in Milly’s present tense narrative.
“Coaster” is an honest, raw and unburnished arrangement, but maybe more importantly it’s a beacon for people who struggle to reconcile their neuroses – societal and personal – with their potential for joy and love.
“Coaster” is a captivating tale that is tangible because it grows through the cracks of self-doubt that are all too familiar for so many of us. Milly Edwards’ voice is perfectly nuanced and modulated, often reduced to a whisper, and avoiding melodramatic emotions.
Milly purrs, delivering earnestly the kind of lines that are generated by a quavering heart. The music’s different in other ways, too. In her affect, production, and writing, Milly telegraphs extraordinary sensitivity with an extraordinary, sometimes stifling, sense of restraint.
It’s not that her music shows no daring, but rather that its attempted innovations come in the form of underplaying, such as by limiting the rhythmic rev-up, and bombastic choruses. Milly’s resistance to bludgeoning her way to payoff crescendos is not only admirable but also savvy, fitting with pop’s generally melancholy mood lately.
There’s an inscrutable quality about Milly Edwards that makes it feel like she’s speaking directly to you; her songs feel like a secret confessional shared between close friends.
Due to her afflictions, Milly has probably experienced life as almost no one else listening can relate to, but there’s one thing in her narrative that makes her at once relatable: unrequited love. That’s universal. It doesn’t matter you who are. It’s indiscriminate, and it is cruel. “She was fine in the sheets, but now she feels like an embarrassment. He only wanted that from her. He couldn’t perceive she was after something else…”
“Coaster” sees Milly Edwards on the cusp of adulthood, and able to allow herself to be vulnerable and open, with just a hint of frustration. Her minimalist arrangement, and wry, deadpan vocal performance bends and twists the singer-songwriter template in surprising ways, as she highlights the destructiveness of superficiality within relationships. Her breathless whispers and effortless flow is both alluring and addicting.