Discover the Raw Intimacy and Emotional Depth of Holly Blair’s Line Again

Holly Blair’s single Line Again may sound like it’s set up to be a typical love song, but the minute it starts, you realise it’s anything but.

It’s a raw, unflinching snapshot of vulnerability layered over moody guitar riffs, with a tension you can feel in your bones.

Blair, an LA-based multi-instrumentalist and filmmaker, steps into the spotlight with this self-produced track, featured on her new EP Then Comes The Lightning.

From the first strum, you get the sense that you’ve stumbled upon something deeply personal—like flipping through someone’s journal, the words bleeding through the pages.

It’s hard to look away. Blair’s voice melds with the instrumentals, creating a harmony that feels like an exhale—soft, almost ghostly, yet deeply grounded by the earthy guitar tones.

Line Again strikes a chord with its blend of raw intimacy and universal themes.

Blair doesn’t sugarcoat the complexity of relationships—she digs into the mess: the jealousy, the distance, the inevitable fallout.

And let’s not forget her sharp lyrical wit. The “line” she references throughout the song pulls double duty—it’s a metaphor for boundaries but also hints at deeper, more complicated addictions.

“My love is patient, and you’re fucking wasted,” her lyrics sting, but Blair doesn’t linger in self-pity.

Instead, she twists it into something even more cutting: “And my love is kind, and you will waste it.”

You can feel the emotional shift—that moment when love turns from nurturing to an acknowledgement that it’s being taken for granted.

But instead of spiralling into despair, Blair keeps it real with, “I said what I said.” She’s not over-explaining—sometimes less is more.

Musically, Line Again is patient. It takes its time, allowing space to breathe.

Just when you think you’ve settled into its minimalist vibe, the drums quietly appear—not overpowering, but more like a subtle pulse, a reminder that there’s still life under the surface.

It’s a slow build, sneaking into your mind and refusing to leave.

Blair’s openness isn’t indulgent; it’s reflective and thoughtful, like she’s holding a mirror up to her own flaws while acknowledging there’s no easy fix for what’s broken.

This balance between heartbreak and self-awareness is what makes Line Again so compelling.

Line Again is a walk through emotional wreckage, one breath and one guitar strum at a time.

And trust me, once you’re on that path with her, you won’t want to turn back.