TAAHLIAH’s electronic pop is reaching for a different form of connection

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The first voice you hear on Gramarye, the debut album by Scottish artist TAAHLIAH, is not hers but that of Octavia St. Laurent, the Harlem ball scene legend and star of Paris Is Burning. “I am here, and nothing can push me aside,” St. Laurent says on opening track “Lachrymose,” the recording a clip from an interview she did before her death in 2009. Her appearance concludes with a sharp “Don’t fuck with me,” delivered like the crack of a whip. That same steely resolve in St. Laurent’s words can be found on Gramarye, an album that marks TAAHLIAH’s reinvention from DJ to pop artist and songwriter capturing the bruising effects of love.

Those that know TAAHLIAH primarily as a DJ, a Boiler Room regular who has previously shared bills with A.G. Cook and the late SOPHIE, will not feel short-changed by Gramarye. The bangers section of the album is well stocked starting with “Eylvue,” a muscular techno tune that captures the headrush of romance with alien vocal filters and heart-eyed emojis. “2018,” meanwhile, offers sugary sweet memories of a fling propped up by horizon-piercing synth towers.

Though Gramarye is TAAHLIAH fleshing out her artistry, she doesn’t yet provide her own vocals. Glasgow’s naafi sings “2018” with a digitized warble, while Elouiza Mae France handles the brash and flirty “Boys,” both of which could find a home in Charli xcx’s extended Brat universe. Elsewhere, vocals come from LVRA and Tsatsamis, though TAAHLIAH is listed as a songwriter throughout the album.

While many of her DJ peers use their artist projects to create songs that pad out their club sets, TAAHLIAH uses the album to wrestle with her emotions and find expression through songwriting. A collaboration with the London Contemporary Orchestra in early 2023 pushed her to think of music in new ways while she’s also cited FKA twigs and Zola Jesus, as well as a stint opening for Ethel Cain on tour, as shaping her new direction. These are artists who distend their feelings until the sheer heft of experience begins to feel overwhelming.

TAAHLIAH finds that same resonance on a trio of ballads written and recorded with the help of Dev Hynes. On “Cherish,” a heartbreakingly frank reappraisal of a past relationship, she admits to not knowing how to view what has been lost: “It was hard to understand how I felt / Because something that I cherished was disposable to someone else.” It’s sung between blizzards of drums that mirror the same discursive feeling. “Angel,” meanwhile, further underlines TAAHLIAH’s status as an outlier in a cold landscape. “The world is hard but I’m soft like an angel,” she writes, a line delivered with a tender exhale.

The word “gramarye” has roots in the Scottish word for “glamor.” While there is certainly magic and romance in TAAHLIAH’s music, conceptually Gramarye is more about moving away from those surface level feelings and uncovering what is buried in the marrow. The album ends on an uplifting note as bagpipes, another nod to her Scottish heritage, usher in “Holding On/ Let Me Go.” Slowly, with lap steel guitars trembling in the background, London-based musician Tsatsamis sings about finding strength and persevering. It echoes the “nothing can push me aside” sentiment laid out by St. Clair at the start, and shows that, by utilizing the voices of her collaborators, TAALIAH has taken a big stride in establishing her own.