Olivia Dean Reminds Us That Love Comes in Many Forms on Her Sophomore Album ‘The Art of Loving’
Olivia Dean’s sophomore album The Art of Loving feels less like a record and more like a diary cracked open. Not just hers, but mine, yours and anyone who has ever wrestled with the messiness of love in its many forms. Romantic, platonic, self-love – she doesn’t try to define it. Instead, she sketches out all its shapes and contradictions with breezy neo-soul production, tender lyrics and a voice that feels equal parts confident and vulnerable.
After a lovely intro track, the journey begins with the lead single “Nice to Each Other.” Guitar-led and featherlight, it offers one of the simplest yet most refreshing reminders: love doesn’t have to be complicated. When Dean sings, “Cause I don’t want a boyfriend / But we could be nice to each other / Nice to each other,” I couldn’t relate more. In a culture obsessed with labels, timelines and pressure, this felt like a sigh of relief. This track is for the hopeless romantics who just want to enjoy someone’s company without the weight of expectation. It’s a reminder that love doesn’t always have to look like forever.
“Lady Lady,” another single, is where Dean asks us to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. It’s a song about trusting the universe, mother nature and yourself as you grow into who you’re meant to be. The chorus, “That lady lady, she’s the man / I think she’s got a master plan” is cheeky, empowering and grounded in trust. This track feels like a mirror held up to our best selves, the versions we’re striving to grow into even when the path forward feels uncertain.
Track three, “Close Up,” steers us into darker, smokier territory. The production swirls and circles her words, creating an atmosphere that perfectly matches the insecurity at the song’s core. When she admits, “I can’t tell if you need me or want me all that much,” I instantly thought about those confusing, situationship-coded entanglements where love bombing and inconsistency leave you doubting your intuition. It’s the sound of being pulled into someone’s orbit, only to realize too late that it isn’t really love. In the outro she sings, “And now I’m all close up, it don’t even look like love,” [and that / which] gutted me because I’ve been there, and chances are, so have most of us.
On the other end of the spectrum is “So Easy (To Fall In Love),” the album’s burst of light. This track is a pure rush of joy. When Dean sings, “I’m the perfect mix of Saturday night and the rest of your life,” it feels flirty, playful and makes you want to twirl around your room or text your crush first. This track feels like butterflies in audio form. It’s the giddiness you feel when your phone lights up with their name, seeing them smile at you from across the room or the possibility that one night could turn into three. But beneath its playfulness is a deeper message of self-assurance. The sense that you know you’re whole on your own, and that happiness in solitude only adds to whatever romance comes along.
“Let Alone the One You Love” is an emotional gut-punch, but one of my personal favorites because it stretches beyond romance. This track could be about being hurt by a lover, a friend, even family. When she sings, “If you knew me at all, you wouldn’t try to keep me small / Who would do that to a friend, let alone the one you love?” It transported me to the most gut-wrenching breakup and friendship fallout I’ve had – the kind where you shrink yourself so others can shine. She sings what I’ve scribbled into journals but never said aloud: “I’m too much to handle, and, ‘just dial it back a bit.’” This song is for everyone who’s ever loved and got treated like they were nothing in return. I’ll admit I cried when I first listened, but I also felt affirmed, because it reminded me that you’re never too much for the people who truly love you.
Track seven, “Man I Need,” is another single and the album’s centerpiece. It’s a complete vibe shift full of confidence and sass. I was lucky enough to hear this live before its release, and it was electric. It’s Dean at her boldest, telling someone exactly what she wants without an ounce of cynicism. The breezy chorus radiates optimism, like a soundtrack to that moment when you know your worth and won’t settle for less. “Already gave you the time and the place so don’t be shy, come be the man I need,” is a line that’s equal parts flirty and direct.
“Something Inbetween” is gentler, but just as piercing. It’s a song about trying to find yourself while also falling in love: “I’m too much to belong to someone, I’m too scared to be changed.” This track feels like it was written for the avoidant lovers, the ones who believe they can’t love until they’re “fully healed.” But this track offers a quiet reminder that you don’t have to have it all figured out to be loved. You’re allowed to be in progress and still worthy of connection.
Track nine, “Loud,” talks about one of the hardest realizations: that someone only wanted you for what you gave them, not who you are. Her lower range in this song is stunning. It’s rich, warm, and heavy with exhaustion. It’s the sound of waking up and realizing you’d rather be alone than with someone who made you feel alone. In the second verse she sings, “A month ago, you had me under covers, butterflies in bed / No, I won’t phone, ’cause we went straight to lovers / So we can’t even talk as friends.” That’s a line that cuts right to the bone. It’s that sting of intimacy that burned too quickly, leaving nothing to salvage in its aftermath.
“Baby Steps,” another favorite, feels like a sister song to Dean’s earlier “Be My Own Boyfriend” and a sequel to “The Hardest Part.” It’s about bridging the gap between who you were before, during, and after someone else. The beauty of this song is its honesty: you don’t have to be 100% okay right away because healing isn’t linear. This song is for anyone who has spent years watching friends move in with partners, get engaged and get married, while you chase other goals like career milestones and personal ambitions. Sometimes it makes you feel like your choices hold less value, but “Baby Steps” reframes that because your timeline is your own, and it’s worthy of celebration. The community you build and the home you make for yourself are milestones too.
Track 11, “A Couple Minutes” is tender and reflective. It reminds us that love doesn’t vanish; it lingers in memories, objects, songs. It’s about those little reminders of someone who once mattered. You’re out living your life when something brings them back to you. It doesn’t feel good or bad, just inevitable. The line “Love’s never wasted when it’s shared,” reminds us that the people we’ve loved become part of our mosaic. And if you loved the wrong person this much, imagine how deeply you’ll love the right one.
And finally, the closing track which has been on repeat since I first heard it: “I’ve Seen It.” If the album had a thesis statement, this is it. One of my favorite lyrics is, “It makes me cry to think that I am able to give it back the way it gives to me.” In a society that places romantic love on a pedestal, Dean takes a step back and points to love everywhere else. Love in her parents’ favorite films, love at a dinner table with friends, love in a glance on public transport. It reminded me of the quote from Love Actually: “If you look for it, I have a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around.” This song is the epitome of that sentiment – love as noticing, love as paying attention. It made me want to look closer at my own life, to recognize the small, extraordinary ways love shows up every day.
By the end of The Art of Loving, I felt both cracked open and stitched back together. This album isn’t about love as a grand spectacle but about love as something you live with: messy, tender, fleeting, devastating, ordinary, miraculous. It’s about being loved, losing love, and finding it again in places you might not expect. It’s about loving yourself enough to walk away, loving your friends fiercely, falling in love even when you’re not sure you’re ready and letting go when it’s time. She doesn’t just sing about love; she redefines it as something multidimensional, universal and beautifully human.
What makes it even more special is knowing that this record will be the introduction to Olivia Dean for so many new listeners. There’s something thrilling about watching her step into bigger stages and brighter spotlights, because she deserves every flower, every standing ovation and every fan who finds themselves in her words. The Art of Loving isn’t just Dean’s story – it’s ours, too.
