Aubory Bugg’s Confessional Debut is a Testament to What Once Was and What’s Yet to Come
Indie-folk force to be reckoned with Aubory Bugg writes from the space between holding on and learning to let go. On their debut, i think i had something once, out via Dualtone Records, the Nashville-based singer-songwriter moves through their music with the intimacy of a late-night conversation with a friend who knows precisely when to comfort you and when to tell you the truth. The record recognizes patterns of toxicity while tracing the lingering aftermath of heartbreak, homesickness, grief, and the disheartening realization that love matters partly because it ends. At only 21, Bugg exceeds their years not only in their extensive vocal and lyrical range, but also in the wisdom, clarity and bluntness with which they voice hard-to-swallow realities. Bugg’s upbringing in a conservative steel town in Illinois as a queer teen also translates across the tracks, placing their unwavering authenticity at the forefront of their musical sincerity.
Spanning 12 tracks, i think i had something once presents Bugg’s position as an artist to watch in full view. Fleeting hints of Joni Mitchell’s folk-rooted freedom and Lucy Dacus’ sharp-eyed songwriting accompany their soundscape without ever reducing Bugg to a single comparison. Their latest is a refreshingly original listen, channeling indie rock and folk through tremors of country twang in a combination that may sound unlikely on paper but feels wholly natural in its execution.
Bugg’s unflinching honesty and acknowledgment of time’s cruel impermanence open i think i had something once with its title track, emphasizing the knowledge that the present is easiest to romanticize once it has slipped through your fingers. Their gut-wrenching admission, “I guess I’ll have to live with every person that I have or have never been,” carries the burden of every past self that exists alongside the futures we have yet to step into. This opening confronts the ways relationships shift, versions of the self dissolve, and memories turn bittersweet once they can only be revisited but never reentered. Like time, people too can slip through your fingers, perhaps even more painfully when you feel their grip loosen but cannot bring yourself to let go. “circumstances” renders the longing to remain in a space of familiar comfort and intimacy amid a shifting dynamic, holding on to someone as if a part of the self will dissipate once the relationship does.
That pain grows on “wasted potential,” where Bugg sings of grappling with exhausting efforts to find reasons to keep someone in their corner and their willingness to do whatever it takes to make it work. “I don’t want to lose this before I know what I’m losing / I think this could be something, honey, if you let it / You can tell me when you’re ready, I’m ready when you want me” The chorus reveals that the possibility of being chosen feels worth the pain of trying. As Bugg considers that keeping the connection intact means bending themself to do so, the building guitar, drums and harmonious vocal layers echo the intensity of their desire to hold on before fading into a soft, ache-filled declaration of patience.
On the flip side, “the one you want to lose” encapsulates coming to terms with the loss of a relationship that didn’t work out while trying to understand the meaning behind it. “nosedive” shifts gears to a more upbeat indie pop plane where acoustic guitars and downtempo instrumentals submit to a punchy rhythm, turning a painful experience into something playful and danceable. The track carries an almost sarcastic disposition regarding the absurdity of a past partner attempting to reconnect with their first love through bouts of inconsistency. The pace shifts with a guitar break as Bugg expresses that “There’s nothing like a first love coming back into your life fucking it all up for me / Nothing like the good stuff rushing back into your mind like it’s a real love story.”
Slowing back down, “still want you to” explores the desire for someone to treat you badly because at least then they’d be treating you at all. In trying to make sense of changed behavior in an unsteady connection, Bugg begins to accept the harmful belief that having someone means letting it hurt. The record’s testament to loving and losing turns emotionally visceral on “i’ve come to realize.” Gentle fingerpicking and delicate string orchestrations support the softness of Bugg’s voice as they touch on the unavoidable, continuous gut punch that sits next to grief. “Where does all the love go when you love someone who’s gone.”
“just embers now” continues reflecting on a love lost, but with a sense of acceptance in the totality of its ending. “We’re just embers now but that’s alright.” Its upbeat instrumentation and feelings of being okay with finalities moves into “i can’t.” “I can’t make you want me and I can’t make you happy / I begged you on my knees and hands to love me but you can’t.”
Having “close enough” as the penultimate track feels like a smart choice as Bugg expresses not quite having reached healing, but has welcomed it into their heart, knowing they will get there soon. “It isn’t perfect but it’s how it’s gotta be / can’t call it closure but it’s close enough for me.” Bugg’s vocalizations between verses mirror their gradual letting go as they learn that trying to change endings won’t make them any less final.
There’s a hope in the heartache as the record wraps with “sometimes (i love you).” From close enough to conclusion, Bugg accepts how the path to healing doesn’t happen in a straight line, but it’s one they’re finally ready to walk down. The break just before the song’s midpoint feels like walking through this realization, its arrangement growing louder with each step closer to being alright. “I know I'm not there yet but some days I'm close / Some days this heartbreak Starts to feel like a joke / But sometimes it hurts me more than I’d like to admit / Sometimes, I love you, but I'm working on it.”
There will be days when the pain seems so all-consuming that an escape route feels impossibly far, and others where it almost feels silly how much time is spent inside of it. Regardless, both are okay. Both are necessary, even, to grow through life within every aspect of moving through it. That recognition is what i think i had something once is all about.
