Like Me

"Like Me" carries a wiry, tightly coiled energy — the guitars are funkier and more angular here, with a rhythmic insistence that locks into your body before your brain fully registers it. Lacy's production sensibility leans into the crunch of overdriven strings and punchy, dry drums that feel almost live in their presence. There's an irreverence to the track, a swagger that stops just short of bravado because the self-awareness keeps undercutting it. His vocals alternate between confident declarations and moments of genuine questioning — the delivery has a syncopated quality, falling slightly off the expected beat, which keeps the listener slightly off-balance in the best way. The lyrical core grapples with individuality and the strange friction of existing in a scene that claims to celebrate uniqueness while quietly demanding conformity. This is Lacy at his most musically economical — nothing is wasted, every element earns its place. It fits into the broader conversation he was having with neo-soul and funk traditions, absorbing them and then subtly warping them through a Gen Z lens. Put this on when you're getting ready to go somewhere and you want to feel like yourself before the world tries to make you feel like someone else.