Long Way Home, Short Way to the Top: The Problem With Stella Lefty
If you haven’t listened to country upcomer Stella Lefty’s debut record Long Way Home and are wondering what you missed, don’t worry; I can fill you in. Stella has a crush. She doesn’t know if she should go for it. She goes for it. Now, she really likes him. Sometimes she gets scared because she really likes him. Then, she decides she likes him anyway. There, I just saved you 38 minutes.
On Long Way Home, 24-year-old Lefty attempts to introduce herself as country music’s newest girl next door. Across 14 tracks, she sings about crushes, whiskey, missing boys, dancing with boys, leaving boys, and finding the “Forever Guy.” None of these are inherently bad subjects for a country album—in fact, they make up a substantial portion of the genre. The problem is that after 38 minutes of hearing about Lefty’s love life, I somehow know almost nothing about her.
The record opens with “Lean In, Kiss Me,” which immediately sets up both its strongest qualities and biggest problems. The production is clean, the guitar is warm, and Lefty has a voice that fits comfortably into the increasingly blurry space between folk, country, and pop. The song is easy listening in the most literal sense, but its central romantic tension—two people like each other, so why not kiss?—is about as complicated as the album gets. From there, titles like “Thinking ‘bout You,” “Missing You,” “Slow Dancin,” and “Forever Guy” function like plot summaries. On “I Know I Know,” she sings, “I know, I know, I know,” a repetition that unintentionally captures the experience of listening to the album: by its second half, we know. She likes this guy.
Even when Lefty tries to inject personality into these relationships, she falls back on familiar country shorthand. On “Slow Dancin,” Lefty reduces a casual fling to whiskey, dimmed lights, blushing, and a guy who “talk[s] so low.” “Why Wouldn’t We” attempts the same playful specificity with cigarettes and the revelation that Lefty’s love interest has “the key” to her heart. The imagery feels less lived-in than pulled from a country-pop Mad Lib. Lefty constantly gives us the idea of romance without introducing us to the people actually experiencing it. We know she likes these men, but rarely what she likes about them.
“Feel Better” provides a welcome break from the album’s seemingly endless romantic indecision, questioning why Lefty feels unhappy when, “on paper,” everything in her life is going well. While it could have been one of the record’s more revealing moments, instead, Lefty describes her emotional state through similarly vague imagery; she asks when she will stop feeling “the weight of the world" before declaring, “I’m falling like a steel feather.” What weight? What is she struggling with? What made her feel this way? We never find out. Even when Long Way Home finally gives Lefty something to talk about besides a boy, she remains frustratingly unwilling, or unable, to tell us much about herself.
That is not to say Long Way Home is unlistenable. In fact, its greatest strength might be how easy it is to listen to. Lefty has a pleasant voice, the acoustic instrumentation is polished, and nearly every song contains some sort of hook. “Something To Lose,” her duet with a fellow new country act, Vincent Mason, benefits from giving Lefty another voice to play off, while the record as a whole has the breezy, windows-down quality that makes modern country-pop so commercially successful. There is a perfectly functional album here—the problem is that “perfectly functional” is a remarkably low ceiling for a debut intended to establish a new artist.
And then, there’s “Boston.” The album’s breakout single is also its most memorable track, although not for reasons Lefty would probably like. Its melody drew immediate comparisons to Noah Kahan’s “Stick Season”—similarities significant enough that Kahan ultimately received a songwriting credit. Lefty maintains she was not consciously drawing from Kahan while writing the song, an explanation made considerably harder to believe after old TikToks resurfaced of her repeatedly covering “Stick Season” and calling Kahan one of her favorite artists. The controversy becomes difficult to dismiss as an isolated coincidence when other songs on the record now face similar accusations. Influence is not plagiarism, and country music doesn’t have an unlimited supply of chord progressions. However, Long Way Home already struggles so much to establish who Stella Lefty is that these similarities become impossible to ignore. The album’s biggest hit evokes another artist so strongly that Stella Lefty’s own identity gets lost in the resemblance. The record feels less like the introduction of a new artist than a collection of recycled tropes that have already worked for other musicians.
The lack of identity becomes even harder to separate from the circumstances of Lefty’s rise. Born Stella Lefkofsky, she is the daughter of billionaire Groupon co-founder Eric Lefkofsky. Her family’s wealth doesn’t automatically make her untalented, just as being a “nepo baby” doesn’t inherently prevent someone from making good art. Audrey Hobert and Malcom Todd, siblings who have received significant commercial and critical acclaim in the past two years, have industry connections but have built sounds that are unique and add value to the current music climate. Privilege can open the door; what an artist does once inside still matters.
Ultimately, Long Way Home fails to carve out a distinct identity for Lefty. She began her career with resources most aspiring musicians could never imagine in an industry where countless talented artists will never have the financial freedom to spend years recording, touring, and waiting for a breakthrough. That does not mean her father bought “Boston” a spot on the charts. However, when an artist receives extraordinary access, and the resulting music feels this derivative, it is fair to ask what exactly Lefty brings to an industry already overflowing with young singer-songwriters fighting to be heard.
Still, Long Way Home offers glimpses of the artist Lefty could become. She has a capable voice, an ear for catchy melodies, and a clear understanding of what modern country-pop audiences want. Yet, a debut album is supposed to introduce us to an artist. Fourteen songs later, Long Way Home leaves its most important question unanswered: Who is Stella Lefty?
For now, she sounds a little too much like everyone else.
Rating: INDY
Kelsey Perriello is a senior in the College studying Economics and Government.
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