Laura Lucas transforms a teenage road trip into something profoundly intimate with The Atlantic, where fingerpicked guitars drift beneath vocals that feel both distant and uncomfortably close.
The Canadian-born, Melbourne-based songwriter lets her voice hover just above whispered confessions while ambient textures create an atmosphere thick with unresolved hurt.
The track follows memories of maritime Canada, but Lucas digs into the emotional wreckage beneath those picturesque scenes.
Her delivery carries an eerie calmness that makes lines like “You were so pedantic / And I was a kid” land with unexpected weight.
The production mirrors this complexity, with reverb-soaked guitars that seem to echo across empty coastlines.
“This really is a song for my inner child,” Lucas shares. “I found so much healing in writing the lyric ‘I was a kid.’ It’s a simple phrase, but it flicked a switch in my brain and helped me release a lot of misplaced shame.”
The bridge’s anxious repetition—“Keys, check / Wallet, check / Phone, check”—breaks the song’s dreamy spell with modern paranoia, revealing how past wounds shape present behaviors.
Lucas’s voice possesses something ghostly yet grounded, perfectly suited to examining fractured relationships through the lens of geographical displacement.
The Atlantic previews Lucas’s debut album There’s a Place I Go, due November 14 via Nettwerk, promising more of this haunting introspection.
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Laura Lucas The Atlantic Lyrics
Summer swelled in my throat
Fourteen nights on the road
Say you love me ten times in a day
Like it’ll make up for when you go
Coloured towns, ain’t it charming
You don’t look back each time we’re departing
From the car to the lighthouse and back
To the shore where the tide would erase all our tracks
Down at the Atlantic
You were so pedantic
And I was a kid
I was a kid
We’ll go as far as the island
Rusted soil is shining
Feels like I’m on Mars
And I don’t know where you are
Or half the hurt you’re hiding
Swear that house, it was haunted
Who’s the ghost now if we’re being honest?
From the car to the lighthouse and back
To the shore where the tide would erase all our tracks
Down at the Atlantic
You were so pedantic
And I was a kid
I was a kid
Keys, check
Wallet, check
Phone, check, check, check
Keys, check
Wallet, check
Phone, check, check, check
Keys, check
Wallet, check
Phone, check, check, check
Check, check, check
From the car to the lighthouse and back
To the shore where the tide would erase all our tracks
Down at the Atlantic
You were so pedantic
And I was a kid
Down at the Atlantic
I can’t understand it
Cause I was a kid
I was a kid