Now that her third studio album has launched itself into the public eye, the consensus seems to be that Laufey is not a jazz artist, but rather one who wears many of the genre’s traits and trappings like a cloak— the distinction couldn’t be clearer than on ‘A Matter of Time,’ as the homely arrangements of ‘Bewitched’ take a backseat behind far grander offerings. The Icelandic singer and multi-instrumentalist has collected a staggering number of musicians this time around, lending her latest suite of tracks all the orchestral fanfare of a beloved Disney sing-along. It’s beneath that glowing exterior that the meat of the record lies though: ‘A Matter of Time’ executes its tale of lost love well, even if the narrative is forced to dance around an uneven tracklist.

Despite what opener ‘Clockwork’ would have you believe, Laufey has stepped further away from her jazz-adjacent roots than ever in 2025— in their place lie all the bombastic flourishes of the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack, brought to life so vividly that one could mistake the wandering melodies of ‘Cuckoo Ballet’ for an Ashman and Menken original. The frontwoman’s own contributions (those being performances on the cello, piano and guitar, alongside her lead vocals) clearly weren’t enough for Laufey, who’s instead taken it upon herself to assemble a sweeping ensemble. Every moment of ‘A Matter of Time’ is stuffed to the brim with violins, doubles basses and french horns: as you might imagine, the record stands out tremendously in the overcrowded pop market. Even if many of the orchestral additions and vocal harmonies that crop up here aren’t the most intrepid you could hope to hear, the wintery atmosphere created (like in the outro of ‘Too Little, Too Late’) nonetheless feels impossible to ignore.

Where the album really shines, though, is in the journey that Laufey is taking the listener on— there’s clearly been a lot of thought put into the record’s construction on both a musical and thematic level, and the results absolutely speak for themselves. ‘A Matter of Time’ deals in romance in a far smarter and more carefully-crafted manner than most pop at this level of success, winding its way through a fable-like narrative of newfound love… and, of course, eventual heartbreak.

“I've always been smart, my chameleon heart

Took your draining personality and gave it to me

I wanted to please you, this performance of a lifetime

My heart to you handed, you took it for granted

And made me the villain, all alone”

Laufey proves herself to be not just a remarkable vocalist, but a gripping storyteller too (even if the vocal inflections and grating vibratos on a cut like ‘Clockwork’ may rub some listeners the wrong way). There’s a heartbreaking weight to the explorations of body dysmorphia on ‘Snow White,’ contrasting an earnestness on ‘Carousel’ that positively sells the song— the way that the record climaxes with closer ‘Sabotage,’ which places the blame for the events of the album on Laufey’s own shoulders, really is quite excellent.

“It's just a matter of time till you see the dagger

It's a special of mine to cause disaster

So prepare for the impact, and brace your heart

For cold, bloody, bitter sabotage”

The record teeters on the edge of brilliance in this regard, but falls short by a measure: that endearing narrative is a strong asset at its disposal, though it’s unfortunately diluted by the sheer amount of redundancy that weighs down Laufey’s third record. At times, it almost seems like the artist is playing a joke on us— after all, why else would the last-minute crescendo of ‘Too Little, Too Late’ fit that description to a tee, while ‘Forget-Me-Not’ winds up as one of the least memorable cuts on the album? A great number of songs across ‘A Matter of Time,’ so steeped in their nostalgic presentation, having us feeling like we’ve heard them before: there’s very little to grab onto from the wishy-washy balladry of ‘Clean Air,’ or from the Laufey-by-numbers writing of ‘Lover Girl’ and ‘Mr. Eclectic.’ The album’s narrative, strong as it is, is not a complex one— it did not need to evolve over fourteen tracks.

What’ll really have us returning to the record is its standout moments, which ‘A Matter of Time’ does, thankfully, having in store. The sorrowful interplay between Laufey’s vocals and the gentle guitars and strings on ‘Snow White’ is truly enveloping, turning the classic Disney ballad on its head: the album can flourish in some of its softest moments, as ‘A Cautionary Tale’ goes to show. That’s not to say that the Icelandic performer’s signature charm doesn’t bear some fruit in 2025 though, as the romantic musings of ‘Castle in Hollywood’ and absolute standout track ‘Silver Lining’ go to show. Be that as it may, the absolute crown jewel here is undoubtedly ‘Sabotage,’ which accents its bold narrative role with some startlingly creative choices— the scrabbling strings and abrupt cut-off that define the track are nothing short of breathtaking, and have us praying that we might see some more risks like this going forward.  

‘A Matter of Time’ houses within it some truly gorgeous material: in many ways, Laufey has crafted a fairytale for the modern age here, capturing both a delicate narrative and a unique sound palate. As tends to be the case in the modern pop landscape though, that artistic vision seems to have been pulled in one too-many directions in 2025, burdening the record with some sub-pair material to sift through. There’s a lot to love about Laufey and her newest release: arguably too much.