FRNK

LATE LEE has had to unfold himself out of a lot of self-doubt and feelings of being mentally lost. He’s taken long-term breaks from social media to try to find his center on more than one occasion. Out of that exploration and journey to inner peace, he gifted fans his most poignant work to date. His second EP, “12AM.”

11:59PM

The album crackles to life with a monologue from a young lady of European origin. “I’m not doing great,” she says. “In fact, I can’t remember the last time I felt this bad.” She stumbles to put into words the emotional upheaval she’s going through. When LATE comes in, seemingly interrupting the young lady’s diatribe about where she is, there’s a sense of something missing. A void of sorts, the space filled with a lilting and lonely guitar. “What’s gotten into you?” LATE entreats.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B7g8QkHlzK6/

The conversation between the young woman at the song’s opening, LATE, and longtime collaborator Cody Benjamin seems to be a push and pull of expressing the constant ache and blame. A vicious cycle that results in one or both parties giving up the fight. While the surface story does seem to mostly paint the picture of a couple on the cusp of a painful breakup, I suspect something deeper under the surface.

There’s a two-fold story of mental manipulation here. On the one hand, we have the overt conversation between our three protagonists. Our young lady, trying to explain why she’s been so distant; LATE expressing his confusion as to how things went so wrong.

Then there’s that third voice. Benjamin is the devil on LATE’s shoulder. The voice that whispers to LATE that he deserves better than what his significant other can give him. Meanwhile, our leading lady is still left drifting. As a matter of fact, it reminds me much of the main plot of Ari Aster’s psychological horror film “Midsommer.” A couple’s relationship slowly deteriorates. The young woman is a lone shadow in her own life, while her boyfriend surrounds himself with people who will bolster his ego and abdicate him of any blame.

However, looking past the obvious, one can see that LATE is himself a listless island in the sea of his own self-doubt. Perhaps even self-loathing. When he expresses, “I don’t need you; I don’t want you,” it sounds more like a plea for release. He begs for someone to hear him and pull him out of this endless back and forth with himself. He’s lost, “can’t remember a time when [he] felt this bad.” But he’s also confused as to how he even got here in the first place. Why the world around him, and indeed the universe of his mind, is so cruel to him.

The clock ticks toward 12AM

An overarching theme of the album is most certainly loss. Loss of self. A loss of love. Loss of love of self. It’s a vicious cycle of heartbreak that runs a very thick, severe line throughout each song. “Just Friends” is one of those songs that lay heavily on the skin after a single listen. It doesn’t sit right.

Our protagonist is stuck in a pattern of a fading relationship. His significant other has become little more than a specter in his life. A fuzzy shadow that haunts his psyche, forcing him to reconsider exactly what he’s doing there in the first place. “Wishin’ we never fuckin’ met,” he proclaims weakly. “Burning slowly like cigarettes.”

LATE is a man tortured from utter stagnation. The bitterness of watching helplessly as someone you thought you loved turns into someone you don’t even know anymore. (“I can’t let you go. What are we here for? … There’s no room to grow.”) Meanwhile, his (soon-to-be ex) love is a constant reminder of his perceived failures: “But you still say I’m wrong. Through it all.” Again, a situation in which the lost party is ultimately blamed for why things aren’t working. It’s wrong. It feels wrong.

The title “Just Friends” seems both apropos and a contradiction. On the one hand, yes, if a romantic relationship cools it seems to take a step back. You’re no longer lovers. Only friends. On the other, the concept of friendship here is more an addiction to not being alone. You want so desperately to quit, but something keeps you there. It’s like telling yourself, “Just one more drink,” “Just one more puff”… “No, we’re just friends.”

One second closer to 12AM

As we creep ever nearer to the stroke of midnight, the charade wears thin. “Recognize” is the first moment, it seems, where LATE realizes that the problem isn’t him. Was never him. He can finally acknowledge that the person he was so dependent on for his happiness has changed into something he doesn’t even know anymore. (“She just wanna be someone I don’t even recognize.”)

He blatantly admits to his addiction to this person, to the idea this person represented, the comfort she brought with her presence. No matter how unhealthy that comfort actually was to him. The pitching of his voice here works perfectly to complete the metaphor. Not only does it fully represent the idea of recognition (we don’t realize it’s him), it suggests that his mind is elevated. He’s reached a higher consciousness of self and self-reflection. It also, perhaps, suggests he’s the stronger person here, has raised himself above the addiction.

The bell tolls 12AM

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODdu8ZhSeHM

We end the album the same way we started: A female voice forcing herself to admit something’s wrong. From the hesitation and gaslighting of “Need,” we get the confidence of confession with “Rexford Dr.” LATE has shown himself coming out of this dense thicket of self-doubt. First having the courage to admit what he wants and what he needs (“I wanna go back. Take me with you”). Then the audacity to make the song almost completely in his native tongue. In our most recent interview he revealed he wants to make his music bilingual, wants to share the beauty of his culture because it’s who he is. He expresses this sentiment with incredible depth in “Rexford Dr.” 

It’s no coincidence that the album both starts and ends with a female voice. It’s the notion of the female as both the beginning and the end (for many people) of life. In this case, LATE had to eventually shed one part of his life to step into the next. Women, for better or worse, also seem the easiest metaphor for a man’s struggle. The ups and downs, pain and pleasure of being in love with a woman drives some men to move mountains, and others to commit murder.

The dichotomy between extreme affection and extreme hatred. Men often act these out in extreme ways. This either leads them to continue to live in the delusion or accept the heartache and learn from it. LATE has chosen the latter, allowed himself to feel the pain and evolve.

The final bell announcing 12AM rings out.

LATE has finally found his voice

It has to be said: Without bias or exaggeration, LATE LEE is one of the hardest working artists of this generation. Undoubtedly the amount of effort, dedication, discipline he puts into his craft is astounding. The returns all his work yields are staggering.

His skill set continues to evolve. And with it, so does he. LATE is a testament to the power of growth even in the shadows of a great deal of heartache. At the stroke of 12AM, LATE has entered a new phase of his artistry and his personal journey.

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