Album Review: Love Spells - 'Love Is The Law'
From Houston to heartbreak: Love Spells’ emotionally captivating debut.
There's a reason Love Spells called his debut album Love Is the Law. For Sir Taegen Harris, the 21-year-old Houston native behind the project, love isn't just a feeling, it's the thing his whole life seems to revolve around, for better and for worse. "Our lives revolve around love," he says. "We do so many things because of it and so many problems come out of it." Love Is the Law is proof of that, a record that sounds like it was fuelled entirely by a broken heart.
The backstory matters here. At 18, Harris was homeless in Houston, chasing a music career on pure ambition. He moved to California, lived with a friend he'd made online, and spent a summer commuting hours a day just to record at studios like Shangri La in Malibu, pouring his first heartbreak into 'lovers only'. Six months later he was back in Houston when Kevin Abstract called, inviting him to move in and work on Abstract's Blush. When that wrapped, Harris headed back to LA with a fresh start in mind, wanting an album that reflected how much he'd grown. He also wanted to dance. Growing up sneaking into Houston's Numbers club on a fake ID, he fell for 70s, 80s and New Wave records, and that instinct not to make "someone who only makes slow, sad music" runs underneath even the album's saddest moments.
That tension between heartbreak and momentum sets the tone from the very first track. 'don't touch' is a very chill opener, all country tinged acoustic guitar and an interestingly restrained vocal take, the calm before everything else unravels. 'crutch', one of the singles, follows with something more tender still, delicate vocals and dreamlike keys that lean fully into the intimacy of the lyrics, inspired by a friend Harris felt was leaning on him as an emotional crutch. 'keep it to yourself' turns that intimacy protective, the lyrics drenched in insecurity, "i don't want anyone to question us" capturing that burning desire to be alone together, the swamp like guitar meandering through a river of pain.
'kiss me slow this time' slows things down further, nostalgic strings and the best hook on the album so far, before 'stupid' arrives as the clear highlight, with a The Marías like softness that explodes into something grander, electric guitar crashing against the drums in a way that finally lets the album's narrative breathe. From there the despair deepens. 'love is the law' leans on a grungey guitar line as Harris' soft vocals tell a story of desperate despair, "don't go breaking my heart" landing as sad as it is relatable.
‘perfect man' brings a little more pep to the drums and a touch of optimism to the instrumental, even as the confessional, heartbroken lyrics carry on regardless. 'devour me' strips everything back to a minimalist guitar that only ever so slightly ramps up, the chorus sounding like it's coming from a void of despair, the sentiments given room to properly land and resonate.
'i've tried' is the most cinematic moment on the record, a lush orchestral opening giving way to another meditation on lost love, Harris sounding utterly defeated, another male vocalist trading lines with him to flesh out the emotion before a closing sax line ties it off beautifully. 'until we get it right' might be the most profound cut yet, piano and risers building a genuinely sombre atmosphere around the line "you can leave but you won't go far", the whole thing feeling like being lost in a daydream. It's a fitting lead in to closer 'maybe i still love you', a smooth, confessional send off that could sum up the entire project: the uncertainty of love, never quite knowing if you've truly let go, moments of calm colliding with moments of chaos.
Words by Alex Peters
