I’ve scrolled Bandcamp a bit too long to get a sense of when a release is worth skipping. There’s the “iconic” local band look, a “graphic design is my passion” aesthetic that makes you wonder how the artist could possibly take their music seriously.

Sea Lemon is a bit of an enigma in this respect. The promo photos of project mastermind Natalie Lew are professional. Close Up, the debut EP, is released on a record label. So, the artwork on this release is some kind of confusing statement that exists for no lack of resources

But if it’s not cheap, what IS Close Up? Chiptune? Prog? The exact mood is hard to nail from the art alone. But as “Fortune Teller” begins, the petals of the EP start to unfold to expose sentimental, jangly beach pop. Sure, you might call it nostalgic – but I’d argue Lew subverts relying on her predecessors. It’s her place in this new wave of surf-inspired ilk that establishes her momentum. To quote a small movie, “Everything is cool when you’re part of a team.”

The question then follows: What does Sea Lemon add to the conversation? The answer lies somewhere between reggae percussion lines, childlike vocals, buzzy synth drone, and production that truly makes these songs shine.

Admittedly, I’m not the most regular fan of this subgenre. So I can’t quite articulate all of the nuances of how Lew might compare to similar acts. All I can say is there’s something compelling here. Admittedly, there’s a bit of unashamed quirkiness in the visuals which plays into the sort of DIY mindset.

There’s a youthful innocence here as well, manifesting in a combination of Lew’s vocal delivery, airy guitar arrangements, and a bright sheen of summery sounds. It’s not a demanding listen – not to suggest it’s thoughtless by any stretch, but it does play well in the background. That’s also not to say that there aren’t things to be said lyrically, but these sentiments are a bit masked undeniably by “the vibe”. Lew’s approach to light-hearted discomfort is not unlike telling a joke to get out of a nerve-wracking situation.

But most listeners won’t notice the lyrics, let alone pry into them (a “feature” of the genre). And honestly, even as much as I care about language, the songs still hold up fairly well on their emotional structure alone.

Up Close is a strong debut with some sort of odd aura surrounding it. The songs along feel seasoned, the art is quirky, the videos are nostalgic, and the lyrics grapple with common challenges. And Sea Lemon sits somewhere in the intersection of all of this, trying to make the best out of seemingly-disparate feelings. Isn’t that something we can all relate to?

Follow Sea Lemon on Instagram.