SINGLE REVIEW: Kevin Koplar – Laugh Alone
‘Laugh Alone’ begins with the low hum of distortion, like a tape being rewound, quietly signalling that we’re about to unravel something raw. What follows is gentle but cinematic—a slow swell of fragile guitars, soft percussion and vocals that carry the weight of heartbreak without demanding pity. Kevin Koplar doesn’t posture. His delivery is introspective, grounded, and pained in a way that feels honest rather than overwrought.
The female backing vocals add a touch of fragility that gently underscores the sense of isolation the track evokes. As the arrangement unfolds, the guitars start to gain traction and the drums pick up a restrained rumble, subtly nudging the song forward. By the time the track hits its midpoint, there’s a noticeable shift—not a flashy crescendo, but a quietly confident expansion. Hook-driven guitar lines and a more rhythmic beat give it lift, without breaking its emotional spell.
There’s a gravelly, almost weathered tone to Kevin’s voice that anchors the entire piece. It’s this earthiness that stops the song from drifting too far into melancholy—it stays rooted, even as it grows. And it does grow. The final stretch builds with impressive grace: sweeping guitar textures, steadily intensifying drums, and a stirring touch of horns that elevate everything without overcomplicating it. The closing duet-style vocals between Kevin and the female backing singer are a final gut-punch—bittersweet, vulnerable, and perfectly judged.
‘Laugh Alone’ is a break-up song, sure, but it’s a proud one—a fist raised not in bitterness, but in defiance, growth and wounded self-awareness. It’s full of movement, never settling in one emotional state for too long. It understands that sadness isn’t static—it builds, it fades, and sometimes, it finds its power in restraint.
