Sugar High

Pure, crystallized escapism — a track that exists entirely in the register of wanting. The production is sugary and slightly unstable, like something carbonated, built on a bouncing synth groove that never quite resolves its own restlessness. There's a deliberate retro quality, nodding toward late '80s freestyle and early '90s dance-pop, but filtered through a contemporary self-awareness that keeps it from feeling like pastiche. Roan's vocal delivery here is playful and almost bratty, leaning into lightness, which creates an interesting tension with the undertow of longing running through the lyrics — she's describing a craving that's almost physical, the kind of want that makes you reckless. It's a song about being young and hungry and slightly out of control, and about how that state feels intoxicating even when it's also terrifying. Culturally, it fits Roan's project of reclaiming maximalist, unashamed pop as a vehicle for queer desire and experience. You'd play this at pre-drinks before a night out, when the anticipation is still better than whatever the night will actually deliver, when everyone is still performing the best version of themselves.