The Honest Chaos of Love in Jeremie Soyan’s Songs |CVLTARTES

Love outlasts the relationship that produced it and refuses to become a lesson, no matter how many times you try to turn it into one. Jeremie Soyan knows this; you can hear it in the way he builds a song, the way he stays inside the mess of a feeling rather than stepping back to explain it.

Born in Guadeloupe, now based in Rouen, he arrived professionally with the debut single ‘Cœur Wanted’ and a debut EP that dismantled his own mythology before he’d had time to build one. Maxwell, his second EP, is where that hard-won self-awareness gets pointed outward, at someone else, at the specific wreckage of wanting the wrong person at the wrong time.

The project is named after no one obvious and everyone obvious, a name that carries weight precisely because it’s left unexplained. The subject is the classic, inescapable one: falling in love with the wrong person at the wrong time. But where lesser writers reach for bitterness or resolution, Soyan stays inside the chaos of the feeling itself.

He grew up using music as a language when regular words ran out, and that instinct is still the engine here. These songs don’t try to be wiser than the experience they’re describing.

‘Boys Gone Wild’ is the track that stretches its arms widest. It examines the lengths people go to when consumed by love, the irrationality, the private theatre of desperation, the small and large humiliations that somehow feel justified at the time.

The title carries a kind of wry self-awareness, but the song doesn’t play it for comedy. There’s an honesty in how it names these behaviors without judging them too hard, recognizing them instead as things most people have done and quietly hoped no one noticed.

‘Finally Realizing’ shifts the texture. Featuring independent artist Marie Iman Maggie, the track opens into something more conversational, two voices in the same emotional space, working through the same confusion from different angles. The collaboration doesn’t feel like a feature in the traditional sense, where a second artist arrives to add a verse and leave.

It feels more like a dialogue, the kind that happens at 2 am when someone finally says the thing they’ve been circling for hours. There’s warmth in the production, space around the voices, and a sense of a song that knows when not to push.

What Soyan does better than most artists operating in this emotional register is resist the temptation of the clean ending. Maxwell closes with its ambiguity intact, neither resolved into sadness nor into the relief of having survived something.

That choice is riskier than it sounds. Audiences are trained to want narrative closure, and pop music especially tends to deliver it. Here, the ending mirrors something truer: that falling in love, even with the wrong person, doesn’t actually end. It just changes form.

Coming after ‘Miseducation of a Saint Boy,’ a debut that charted his identity and his contradictions, blending French and English in a way that felt genuinely bilingual rather than calculated, Maxwell is a step deeper into the interior.

Soyan has found a collaborator in Marie Iman Maggie, who adds dimension without diluting direction, and he’s found a title that works as a container for everything the EP holds without explaining any of it.

The EP is out October 30th. Halloween’s eve feels, in retrospect, exactly right for a project about the things that haunt you.