Tygermylk’s ‘Local Girl, Always Tired’ paints an intimate portrait of a true life lived
- blondevibrations
- 13 hours ago
- 4 min read
‘Local Girl, Always Tired’ is a debut album built brick by brick from the experiences that have shaped Tygermylk over the last decade. Made up of minimalist moments and beautiful, soaring production, it is a dreamy project that guides you through the complexities of a full life where loss and grief exist because you loved deeply, and where you are constantly processing what makes you you.
The title track, ‘Local Girl, Always Tired’ plays on something so many of us had to grapple with, especially those who left their developing life in London to return to places a former version of themselves once lived during the pandemic. You were pulled back into things that stay the same even when you have grown, forced to sit with everything that resurfaces in the stillness of a world on pause. Health challenges did not pause with it, and the song weighs up those struggles that could not be ignored. ‘I just hope I make it out alive / this world isn’t built for our kind’ captures how trauma resurfaces when you are close to where it happened, and the low points, internal battles that follow in the face of it.
A true creative artist finds inspiration in the most unexpected places, and that is exactly what Tygermylk does in ‘Babe III’, a song originally written to process the loss of their grandfather. They share one of their fondest childhood memories, finding a pig. It is a wholly sincere offering, a keepsake that marks a moment in their life, a snapshot of deep connection. While a photo says a thousand words, songs like this one speak for a lifetime, memorialising sentiment so beautifully. ‘Life isn’t fair, it took you away and left behind an empty chair’ expresses loss with such nuance and soul, transforming pain into something tender and meaningful.
The album plays like a memory reel, a glimpse into a life fully lived, and this continues with ‘Emergency Contact’. It opens with a voicemail from Tygermylk’s late father, who passed unexpectedly, and becomes a musical exploration of another cherished relationship. Lines like 'morning amnesia when we forget that you are gone' and 'look to the stars where I can see you' build this world of absence filled with love. The production has incredible depth, their voice feels intimate and whisper-like, wrapping itself around the lyrics. The distortion at the end mirrors the overwhelming storm of grief, thoughts crashing like weather, and nods to the storm that occurred at Tygermylk's home just after their father’s passing. It then settles into the silence that follows something so shattering, a quiet peace in the stillness after the chaos.
‘See You in the Hallway’ captures the quiet heartbreak of drifting from someone you never imagined losing. 'We’ve grown our separate ways and I can’t help but feel betrayed' sets the tone. The idea of 'I guess I’ll see you in the hallway' reflects how someone once intertwined with your life, birthdays, shared stories, tiny details within anecdotes you hold so dearly within, becomes a person you might pass with only a glance. When your eyes meet, a lifetime of memories flashes by instinctually. 'Pretending that you never cared, you’re like a ghost that’s always there' shows how betrayal cuts deepest when you know you would never have done the same, and 'I’ll ask how you’re doing today but we’ll never be the same' captures that other kind of loss - the people who did not die, but who you mourn just as heavily.
For a debut album, Tygermylk shares every part of their existence with sincerity, saying things so frankly that often go undiscussed and unsupported. ‘Beast’ explores living with chronic illness, addressing the weight of other people’s ignorance and the way it can distort self-worth. Asking 'how did you get to love a beast like me?' anchors the feeling of being less-than, undeserving of devotion, as if being seen is almost a regret. They articulate the fear of being a burden, something so relatable, while unpacking what it means to live with something that is simply part of you. It touches on how differences do not make you harder to love, but it can feel that way. Tygermylk’s advocacy for discussing chronic illness, its impact on relationships, and the resilience it demands shines through. It also shows as a lyrical highlight on the album, and a cathartic release as they learn to confront these thoughts and rebuild their relationship with themselves.
‘Confetti’ brings a sense of rising self acceptance and euphoria. It marks a pivotal moment on the album and an unapologetic acknowledgement of stepping into one’s identity. Tygermylk has shared that this was the 'beginning of feeling truly free—gender-wise, sexually, emotionally'. The track feels like shedding repression, repeating 'and I don’t regret it for a moment' with dreaminess and courage. It is an important song to exist. Even when things go wrong, choosing to live freely remains an achievement no one can take away. A true queer anthem, 'Confetti' expands the definition of love beyond the small boxes society tries to place it in.
The inclusion of home videos and photos in the album rollout adds another layer of intimacy, allowing us into the world behind these songs. It is a beautiful tribute to the people who shaped this record. Tygermylk also had the genius idea of a tattoo flash collaboration with Holly Does Tattoos to allow fans to don a permanent piece of art that bonds artist and listener... Sign us up next time!
It is so refreshing and authentic to see an album that is simply someone’s life. Tygermylk has reflected deeply on their experiences and tuned into the feelings that have guided them along the way. Where there is grief, struggle, and the daunting task of adapting to new normals, there is also hope, resilience, and a becoming a stronger version of yourself found through understanding why you feel the way you do. A beautiful coming-of-age record, 'Local Girl, Always Tired' looks back at what has been, and offers a hopeful glimpse at what is still to come.
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