A slice of comfort: Rin's cosy debut album 'fawn'

Although released at the tail end of August, 'fawn', the debut album by Rin, feels like delicious timing as the onset of autumn approaches. Her sound lends itself to this transitional period, where her music mirrors the change in the air. The rainfall gracing London today seems a natural soundtrack to the album, as if the weather itself is in conversation with its sound.

All photographs via Instagram: @seaurchrin

The production throughout 'fawn' is bold in vision but gentle in execution. The record opens delicately, led by string arrangements and sleepy, understated vocals that immediately pull you into a place of intimacy. Each song feels both carefully crafted and rawly lived-in, every experience pulled from a diary entry. The titular track, 'fawn', introduces this laid-back yet entirely introspective world we have been gracefully invited to drift into. Luckily, this one is full of green grass, bees, and trees. What a treat!

‘homebody’ picks up the tempo slightly, offering a more upbeat, go-lucky energy. Yet even here, the track maintains that same sense of closeness, an intimate corner of space where listeners can truly get to know Rin even in this spontaneous sound. Her music feels instantly familiar, even to first-time listeners, especially fans of early-era bedroom pop, with shades of beabadoobee’s beginnings and Bubble Gum-era Clairo. It’s light, dreamy, and easy to sink into. Rin crafts a space where you can see yourself reflected.

With ‘nice & slow’, Rin’s sound carries an innocence, allowing every subtle brush of fingers, every flush of cheeks, to linger in the air and let us experience that very same feeling of its effects. The track takes its time, savouring these fleeting moments, almost like doodling lovestruck hearts in the margins of a notebook. Confessional in tone, it offers a quiet intimacy that feels both nostalgic and new. The chorus saying ‘let’s take it nice and slow / Please understand I’m not one to dance / let’s have a go’ shows this daydreaming, sweetness to Rin. That warmth radiates across the album and lights up each track, alongside the countless 'do-do-do-do’s scattered across the verses (one listener actually counted over 70!)

‘funhouse’ sharpens the record, amplifying that rawness that reveals itself as the story of ‘fawn’ unfolds. There is an anxious intimacy here that feels reflective of adolescence, the growing pains of staring into the mirror and realising you are still that same girl, not yet who you are expected to become or wish to be. It is loudest not in sound but in feeling, carrying the weight of emotions often left unspoken. As the track swells, those buried feelings rise to the surface, before the outro lands with a sobering punch that simply asks ‘And it never stops / Am I still not enough?’.

‘i figured you loved me’ follows as a hushed exhale, the sound of words spoken when there is simply nothing else left to say. Rin allows herself to be fully shown here, laying bare the quiet confession of realising her notion of love was not reciprocated by somebody she thought cared. We feel this disappointment and imbalance of desire through the verse - ’I was only just a girl who gave nothing but her world / then you held it still and there it in return’. Lines like ‘I lie to myself through the night while you’re somewhere living life’ deepen this ache of detachment, the impossibility of explaining heartbreak to yourself, and trying to peel yourself away from its pull while still living through it. It is a track that feels deeply, achingly human in its vulnerability, a sentiment some might spend a lifetime trying to articulate perfectly.

‘best interest’ stands out as one of the catchiest tracks on the album, purposefully crafted to make you sway subtly to the beat. There is a guitar-strum-led rhythm that begs movement, and while the track retains a raw, demo-like quality, it still delivers a polished enough finish to leave its mark. Then follows ‘taxi’, arguably the highlight of the album, and a personal favourite. Narrative-driven and infinite in feeling. Rin balances the sweetness of affection with the ache of letting go, with lines like ‘in case you wanna remember me before you leave, write down the name of that street’. It plays like an ode to attachment and release, a musical embodiment of the paradox of love, the curse that keeps you bound to them. It tows the line of setting something free while secretly hoping, behind the wall of pride you have so carefully and strategically built up around you, they circle back to you.

‘always, sometimes’ is a track with a soft, candlelit quality, you can imagine it playing beside old photographs and fading memories. The lyrics sigh ‘cause you love me always, sometimes / just enough to get me by…it’s enough to say we try’ and remind us of those small, fleeting moments. It is a bittersweet track, finding solace in what has happened, trying not to mourn what never was. Standout lyrics include ‘and I know what you’ll say / but please just keep it safe inside and locked away’. While Rin spoke her mind in ’taxi’, this track revels in the times when silence is the necessary step forward when you know how much you can be pulled into somebody’s gravitational pull.

Fan favourite ‘pluto’ shifts the energy again with plucked guitars and a distinctly more indie-leaning influence, infusing the record with more vibrancy and life. Rin’s voice shines, carrying sweetness through moments that feel like a coming-of-age film soundtrack with its catchy chorus. The song embraces the messiness of being out of place and finding beauty in it, capturing the restless joy of figuring life out in real time, every hiccup included. The album then closes on ‘potential’, a track that toys with the idea of building someone into an ideal, imagining them as more than they truly are. Lines like ‘got too ahead and I told my friend, I told my mom … now that’s done we stopped getting along’ show the way giddiness can collapse into regret, as if the act of sharing it out loud jinxed the moment immediately, which we have all felt at times. It addresses projection, about wanting someone to fill a role they cannot. The song breathes with tenderness, and as it ends, the faint sound of air lingers in the last seconds, a moment of reflection and the sound of a dream dissolving.

Rin explained to her Instagram followers that this record is ‘especially made for the introverted, soft-spoken and lonely’, sending comfort and warmth to those who can relate to the sentiment.  That is exactly how this album is digested, it is rich yet delicate, notes of yearning and tenderness, while never losing this emotional weight or depth. ‘fawn’ extends a cosy hug to the listener, a true slice of comfort wrapped in sound. Autumn playlists, take note.