With The Fitting Room, Lily Franc makes an unusually assured debut by turning the uncertainty of early adulthood into the organizing principle of a six-track EP. The Dutch singer-songwriter does not present growing up as a clean progression from confusion to confidence. Instead, her characters remain caught in the messy middle, negotiating expectations around achievement, emotional availability, romance, independence and identity. The title captures that process perfectly. A fitting room is a place of temporary decisions, where something can look right on the hanger but feel completely wrong once you put it on. Franc applies that idea to the expectations people inherit from family, culture, relationships and their own ambitions. Each song explores a different version of that experience, making the EP feel interconnected without requiring every track to tell the same story.
“burnt out gifted kids club” is a particularly strong opening because it immediately complicates the conventional narrative of youthful ambition. Achievement is usually presented as something desirable, yet Franc examines what happens when being gifted becomes so central to someone’s identity that exhaustion feels like failure. The song introduces an empathetic songwriting style that continues through “fun sponge,” where funk inspired production provides a playful counterpoint to observations about emotional detachment and the pressure to appear unaffected. “under the weather” then strips the emotional surface back, focusing on the lingering consequences of heartbreak and the difficult distance required to move forward. These songs demonstrate Franc’s ability to create characters who feel specific rather than symbolic. Their problems may be recognizable, but their emotional responses are individual, allowing the listener to understand them rather than simply categorize them.
“old leather jacket” is perhaps the clearest example of Franc’s ability to transform a familiar romantic premise into a story about self-acceptance. What begins with unrequited love gradually becomes an understanding that rejection does not determine personal value. “soldier” extends that emotional development into relationships, questioning what it means to support someone without becoming responsible for fixing them. The song recognizes that emotional equality requires boundaries as well as devotion. By the time the EP reaches “for old times sake,” Franc has moved from examining specific insecurities toward a broader acceptance of the past. Nostalgia can remain meaningful without controlling the future. The sequencing gives the EP a satisfying emotional trajectory, moving from achievement and performance toward relationships, boundaries and finally release. Most importantly, Franc writes without assigning easy blame. Her characters are not punished for being confused. They are simply trying to figure themselves out.
The musical diversity of The Fitting Room mirrors its thematic range. Indie pop, country pop and folk provide the foundation, while Broadway influences introduce theatricality and funk brings moments of rhythmic playfulness. Franc’s violin is perhaps the most important connective thread. Classically trained from the age of five, she incorporates the instrument into her productions as a recognizable signature rather than separating her classical background from her contemporary songwriting. Her development through the Young Pop Academy at the Conservatorium of Amsterdam, Kunstbende Overijssel and Metropool’s Songmidse programme suggests an artist who has steadily built both technical skill and creative confidence. The result is a debut that feels remarkably considered for an artist at 21. The Fitting Room does not claim to have solved adulthood. Its strength comes from admitting that the process is ongoing, and that sometimes becoming yourself means taking off the version of yourself everyone else expected you to wear.