A Quietly Cinematic EP That Turns Nostalgia Into Something Lived-In And Immediate
listen to the article
INDOLORE has always sounded like someone leaning close to a half-open window, letting the night air do some of the talking. On La Vie Side B, the French singer-songwriter Guillaume Simon deepens that feeling, shaping a four-song EP around longing, memory, and the fragile thrill of remembering who you were before the world got loud.
The project arrives with a clear emotional frame: this is the B-side of life, the place where vulnerability lives, where old loves and old selves come back into focus. That idea gives the record its quiet charge. Rather than chasing drama, INDOLORE lets each song breathe. Light guitar, piano, and his soothing voice create a refined acoustic space that feels intimate without ever turning fussy. There’s a soft glow to it, a kind of luminous melancholy that recalls classic singer-songwriter records while staying firmly his own.
The opening track, Manhattan 89
, carries the EP’s most vivid scene-setting. It’s a nostalgic, slightly strange, slow burn, built around the fantasy of a teenage escape into New York City, all neon, freedom, and pulse. It has the shimmer of an 80s memory seen through a film grain haze. Terry
, meanwhile, lands with a gentler ache, a tribute to a friend and idol that folds grief into melody without over-explaining it. The song sits in that sweet spot where reverence and simplicity meet.
So Long
turns inward, treating unconditional love as something that changes shape but never disappears. And on Hotel Chelsea
, the EP closes in near-whispered reverie, with piano notes echoing through a legendary room and a sense that the building itself is listening back. It’s a small song in scale, but not in feeling.
Across La Vie Side B, INDOLORE writes like someone who trusts understatement. His songs don’t rush to their point; they settle in, then reveal the bruise underneath. That restraint is part of the appeal. With over 5 million plays behind him, he’s already found an audience for this kind of hushed honesty, but this EP suggests something even more compelling: an artist who knows that tenderness can hit as hard as any chorus.
If you would like to submit your music for playlist or feature consideration, please submit here via our partnership with MusoSoup.
