can’t unlove you

In a bold follow-up to her acclaimed debut Deeper Still, alt-soul songstress Huskybeth returns with “Can’t Unlove You”, a five-track EP that walks the knife-edge between intimacy and ache. Out now across all major platforms, the record is a moody, magnetic exploration of love’s lingering imprint — the kind you can’t wash off, even when you want to.

Whether she’s crooning over minimalist beats or swelling into cinematic soulscapes, Huskybeth’s voice cuts through like a whispered secret in the dark — low, luminous, and utterly disarming. Her smoky contralto and finely-wrought lyrics sit somewhere between a confessional and a slow-burn seduction, touching on themes of obsession, resilience, and the ghosts we carry.

Track by Track: The Unshakable Pulse of the EP

1. Ruthless
Opening with a sultry snarl and hypnotic rhythm, this track introduces a dangerous muse — a femme fatale whose charm is as sharp as her silence. It's sexy, spare, and slinks with the late-night energy of a neon-lit backstreet. Think Portishead with teeth.

2. Glass Ghosts
A haunting meditation on past lovers and the spaces they still haunt. Fragile piano lines float beneath pulsing bass as Beth sings, “you left the light on in my bones.” It's spectral and stunning — a song for staring out windows when the rain starts talking.

3. Still I Stay
This is Huskybeth at her most emotionally raw. Over a sparse, jazzy arrangement, she leans into vulnerability with lines like “your absence hums louder than your touch.” It's not just a love song — it’s a reckoning.

4. Now I Need You More
Midtempo, melodic, and deceptively upbeat, this track delivers that particular ache of loving someone more the farther away they drift. It’s that late-night text you never send, turned into a groove you can’t stop replaying.

5. Perfumed With You (feat. Soulfulcraig)
The EP closes with a duet that’s equal parts smoke and silk. Soulfulcraig trades verses with Huskybeth in a late-night confessional of scent, skin, and memories that refuse to fade. It's a slow dance in a burned-out ballroom — sensual, sad, and unforgettable.

“This one’s for the ones still haunted,” says Huskybeth. “Not in a ghost story way — in the way a voice stays in your throat long after someone’s gone. These songs were my way of getting free. Or at least, trying to.”

Produced with atmospheric precision and deep emotional intelligence, Can’t Unlove You invites listeners into a sonic world where shadows have shape and every lyric lingers like perfume on a pillow.

Whether you're nursing heartbreak, reminiscing about the one who got away, or simply in the mood to get lost in something honest and beautiful — Huskybeth has you covered.

Listen now. And be warned: you can’t unhear this one.

deeper still

In an era of sonic maximalism, "Deeper Still" arrives as a whisper that carries more emotional gravity than a scream. With hushed vocals and delicately fingerpicked guitar work, the song evokes the spirit of Nick Drake—not merely in instrumentation, but in its profound restraint and lyrical introspection. It’s a song that unfolds like a slow exhale, or a secret passed between lovers in a quiet room.

"Deeper Still" isn’t concerned with love at first sight, nor with grand declarations. Instead, it burrows into the quieter truth: that real love isn’t static—it’s alive, expanding, deepening with time. The lyrics trace a relationship not through plot, but through sensation: the brush of fingers “like drifting feathers,” the sound of “the chapel robins,” the revelation in a lover’s gaze. These aren’t metaphors built for the radio—they’re tactile, poetic evocations rooted in memory and emotional texture.

There’s a distinct English pastoralism here—a reverence for stillness and the sacredness of the everyday—that echoes Drake’s Bryter Layter and Five Leaves Left era. The natural world isn’t just scenery; it’s part of the emotional landscape. Phrases like “we were quiet in the garden” or “the sun that spills its longing” suggest that the lovers’ connection is woven into the very fabric of nature. This quiet earthiness is reminiscent not only of Drake, but of contemporaries like Vashti Bunyan and even modern successors like Laura Marling.

But what sets "Deeper Still" apart is its arc. The song builds not in volume, but in emotional magnitude. From its tentative beginnings—"Fingers brushed like drifting feathers"—to its final surrender—“To love, and be / And fall / Deeper still”—the piece mirrors the way intimacy grows: slowly, sometimes silently, but with tectonic force. It dares to depict love not as a singular event, but as an unfolding continuum.

Musically, the song avoids unnecessary ornamentation. The arrangement is sparse—perhaps just nylon-string guitar, brushed percussion, and a faint echo of strings or harmonium—but that sparseness is its strength. It leaves space for breath. It’s the kind of production where every note has weight, every silence has meaning. The vocal performance, subdued and raw, never oversells the emotion—it simply lets it be felt.

Interpretively, "Deeper Still" could be read in several ways. For some, it’s about romantic love that grows richer with time; for others, it may reflect on spiritual or even self-love—a long journey toward being fully seen. There’s also the suggestion of grief woven beneath the tenderness: “Not a line upon your laughter / That I wouldn’t kiss and keep” feels like something remembered, cherished, possibly mourned.

Ultimately, "Deeper Still" is a meditation on what remains when the noise is stripped away. In an age obsessed with immediacy and spectacle, this song dares to ask what it means to love deeply, slowly, and well. And in doing so, it reminds us that the most profound truths often arrive softly, and stay forever.