Come Around by Lisa Curtis

Lisa Curtis, a 20-year-old singer-songwriter from Columbus, Ohio, is making waves in the music scene with her distinctive vocals and relatable lyrics. In October 2021, she released her debut EP, Too Hard For You, earning high praise and establishing herself as a rising talent. She continued building momentum in 2022 with the release of her singles "Bored Again" and "Gasp of Air." Now, her highly anticipated latest single, "Come Around." dropped on January 10, 2025, and has already racked up nearly a million streams. The song’s popularity has exploded, thanks in part to its traction on TikTok—where many, including myself, recently discovered Lisa’s music.

And that brings me to this song… this GODDAMN song. I haven’t felt this way about a song in a long time. I know I say that a lot, but let me put it into perspective—I listened to over 160,000 minutes of music last year. I’ve heard a lot of songs across every genre imaginable. But every now and then, a song just scratches that unreachable spot in your brain—the kind of song that has zero flaws, where every note, every lyric, every tiny detail feels so intentional, so perfectly placed. A song where the vocals and instrumentals don’t just blend—they dance together in a way only my ears can see and feel.

Like, how does one even accomplish this?

That slow start? It’s setting the stage, pulling you in, letting the story unfold at its own pace. Then, the build-up—the fucking drums. Sometimes drums overpower a song, drowning out everything else, but not here. Here, the drums and piano create this slow-burning tension, like the unbearable anticipation of waiting for a rubber band to snap back at you. And when it does? It’s chaos in the best possible way.

Then there are the vocals—the small cracks in her voice, the BELT. MY GOD, THE BELT. I’ve been to church, but I have never felt something this spiritual. Full-body chills. And when everything else cuts out to give that belted “know” its own moment? I’m still holding space for that “know.” That one note alone could ruin my entire life, and I’d thank it.

And just when you think you’ve recovered, the guitar steps in and absolutely obliterates you.

Lisa Curtis. MISS CURTIS, IF YOU WOULD. You deserve federal prison and a life sentence for the sheer vocals on this track—for the emotion that isn’t just heard but felt, slipping through my headphones straight into my soul, crushing it little by little.

I’ve had this song on repeat for days, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. 10/10. Ruined me completely.