You're Just a Boy (new)

Opening with a deceptively simple electric guitar lick drenched in chorus pedal and a drum machine pattern that splits the difference between lo-fi and polished pop, this track is Peters at her most surgically dismissive. The production stays deliberately contained — no big crescendo, no cathartic release — mirroring the emotional thesis that the subject doesn't deserve the full orchestra of her feelings. Peters' delivery is conversational and cutting, deploying the kind of specific, devastating observations that feel like they were workshopped during venting sessions with friends before being crystallized into verse. The song deconstructs the gap between romantic potential and romantic reality, between who someone presents themselves as and who they actually are when comfort sets in, with the central conceit reframing immaturity not as charming but as genuinely exhausting. There's a weariness underneath the sharpness that elevates it beyond mere takedown — this isn't revenge, it's resignation. The bridge introduces a momentary softness, a flicker of what she wanted it to be, before the final chorus snaps back to clear-eyed assessment. Sonically adjacent to Holly Humberstone and girl in red's more stripped-back work, it's the perfect soundtrack for finally deleting a contact you should have removed months ago.