The Lack Thereof (2023)
If you’re looking for an artist whose growth you can feel from the first note to the last, Maggie Miles’ sophomore record, The Lack Thereof, is a must-listen. It’s a record that expands on everything she introduced in her debut while packing in more grit, production, and edge. From start to finish, Maggie takes you through a sonic and emotional landscape that’s deeply personal, textured, and raw.
Stomach opens with an atmospheric, haunting synth intro that sets the tone perfectly. Heavy synths, grimy drums, and a sea of auto-tuned vocalizations crash in and soar. It’s a punchy introduction to the album’s richer, more complex production. Maggie is signaling that this record has a bit more grit and edge than her debut. Maggie plays old voice memos over the instrumentals, setting up the introspective and personal themes. “The more successful you become / The more pride seeps in / And the more you feel like you don’t need it.” It highlights the struggle between chasing dreams and staying humble, something Maggie clearly keeps circling throughout the record.
Then comes I, which feels like a dream you don’t want to wake from. Reverbed keys and drums underscore Maggie’s ethereal vocals, the song dynamically picks up and emits a real sense of power. The guitar here? Dark and thick in the best way, giving it a raw, epic feel. The harmonies are nothing short of powerful and defiant. I is an experience. The song picks up where her debut record left off. Maggie lost in the world, singing about the sense of urgency she feels to figure things out: “I'm switchin' through my life / There must be meaning, right? / Need help, I can't explain / Just say it to my face.” It’s a universal feeling, that urge for immediate answers while navigating life’s uncertainties.
When Indecent kicks off with R&B-styled keys and hip-hop drums, you know this is going to be something special. But Maggie layers her alt-pop vocals over it all, turning it into something uniquely her own. The bass, cranked up to 11, instantly makes this one memorable. Having seen this one live, it sealed the deal for me. Watching Maggie completely lose herself in this song was an out-of-body experience. One I yearn to relive every day. The way the aggression and power balance against the clarity and beauty is remarkable, and then there’s that keyboard solo. Iconic, pure and simple. Maggie reflects on our tendency to put things and people on pedestals even when we know it’s to our detriment. “Let me tango with a better half of believin' / Diggin' for a meanin' / I don't wanna reason.” It’s about breaking free from dependence and embracing self-reliance. And don’t get me started AGAIN on the keyboard solo … wow. Just that. Wow.
Asthma has a synth and bass thump that pulls you in from the start. Little teases of keys play throughout, and you can feel the song building and building and building. It’s infectious. Then it transforms into an anthemic rocker, with subtle Billie Eilish influences that never once feel like a copy. Maggie takes those elements and makes something authentically hers. The vocal inflections, the bridges, they might nod toward Billie, but Maggie’s voice and style stay distinct, a force of their own. This song rocks, plain and simple. It’s an anthem of freedom and self-discovery, the other side of Indecent, about healing, growing, and moving on from negativity and toxicity. This. Song. Rocks.
7 continues the sonic cohesion that runs through the record. Maggie builds tension masterfully here, keeping you suspended, waiting for the next note to crash in. The piano, oh, the piano. And the filter she uses here and across the whole record? Pump it straight into my veins. It’s rich and vibrant, a great contrast to the intensity of the bass and drums. It’s the track that makes you feel everything at once. Maggie explores the idea of making peace with your own fault: “Somebody told me I should be friends with my faults / 'Cause they'll help me out one day.” But the song ends on a somber note, as Maggie struggles with fully accepting this notion. It's a relatable internal battle we all face.
When BeNice starts, it steps back from the intensity of the earlier tracks. Artistic auto-tune and hip-hop-styled drums bring a chill feel to the mix. It’s more down-tempo, giving you a moment to breathe, sway, and vibe. But even in the mellow space, Maggie keeps your head bobbing with layered harmonies and lush instrumentation. The message is one of self-compassion: “Be nice to me” could easily be a plea to treat others the way you want to be treated. We’re too often hard on ourselves, and we forget the world around us may feel the same. A gentle reminder to cut ourselves some slack.
And then we hit Close, where everything builds. A simple four-note piano riff underpins the track, and from there it just grows. This is where Maggie shows off her full vocal range, starting soft and vulnerable and ending on huge, emotive belted notes. It’s full, it’s layered, and it’s one of those moments where art and music come together perfectly, something Maggie clearly understands. The production value is insane, wrapping you in a soundscape that’s intimate and epic at once. Close is about faith and the uncertainty that comes with it, Maggie searching for answers and asking the big questions outright: “Are you real? Can you show me? What is the plan?” In life, as in music, it’s scary not knowing what’s next. Maggie’s authenticity and vulnerability shine through here.
Momentum brings a bit of 2000s pop-rock flair, but with that now-trademark Maggie Miles twist. The chorus hits like a truck, and everything on this track lands. It’s got that infectious energy where every instrument feels locked in sync with her vocals. Maggie sings about the frustration of being stuck, whether personally or professionally. She spoke in an interview how the pandemic slowed down her momentum: “Losing sight of my purpose / Hoping I can reach the surface / Gravity is such a burden.” We’ve all been there, feeling like we’re just trying to make it through while carrying a heavy load.
Then there’s Dona, a deeply personal moment, a voice memo recording of a phone call between Maggie and her dear friend Dona. Maggie’s warm voice could fill a room, and I could listen to it all day. It’s the kind of interlude that couldn’t be any more perfect to carry you over to the finale of the record. Slowly, shimmery keys and epic drums join in, bridging the listener to the album closer. It’s personal, hard-hitting, and tonally rich.
Finally, Asleep closes things out with a bang, but not the loud, flashy kind. It’s a mid-tempo full-band ballad that pulls at your heartstrings. And that shift to the gang vocals in the final bridge? It’s like she’s right there in the room with you. It was recorded with Maggie’s friends and sister, which gives it a personal, intimate feel, and you can hear the love and nostalgia in every note. It’s a reminder of where she’s come from and how far she’s grown, the kind of artistic decision that turns a good song into an all time great. Asleep is a reflection on the lessons learned across the record. Despite the heartbreak, the hardships, and the struggles, Maggie finds a way to acknowledge growth and the courage to push forward. In spite of fear and uncertainty: love hard, push forward, have courage, grow from your past. It’s the only way you truly become the best version of yourself, the person you’re meant to be.
Maggie Miles shows a deep understanding of the art of subtlety on The Lack Thereof. She weaves complex emotions through every track, and by the end, you feel like you’ve been on a journey with her. There’s an honesty and rawness here that’s rare. And if this is only her second album? The sky’s the limit.
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Highlight Songs:
Indecent
Asthma
I
Momentum
Asleep
Ugh AGAIN … forget it … every song on the record is highlight!
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Own it, Stream it, Forget about it?
There is only one acceptable answer. Own it. Am I sure? As Maggie would say: “Yeah, Dude.”
Go on, buy it. I’ll wait.
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Album Ranking:
5+ Stars
