There is no such thing as a Montell Fish release without lore. Across albums, EPs, and side projects, the 27-year-old singer-songwriter delves into the depths of his emotions and intellect. With each release, he constructs a layered tower of references and metaphors that shake and sway with the anxieties of a gifted young person striving to reconcile the contradictions of the world: in love, in religion, in art, and in faith. It is the kind of music that inspires intense feelings and dedicated fandom. 

Charlotte, his newly released album, is a raw collection of songs that explore the highs and lows of love, ambition, and self-actualization. “I know I’m a star,” Fish sings at one point, and for perhaps the first time in his career, it feels like he means it—and has unlocked a new level of achievement because of it. While writing the record, the continuation of the trilogy that began with Jamie (2022), Fish read about psychology, memory, and childhood; the ideas of Freud and Jung provided thoughtful stimulation as he crafted songs that explore growth and attachment—romantic and otherwise. The album follows the EP Intercession Before Charlotte, released under his DJ Gummy Bear moniker. (For a greater understanding of Gummy and that project’s ideas about a persecuted musician, Fish wrote a short but dense piece of online fiction. The lore runs deep.) Intercession featured more uptempo, beat-heavy songs, and Charlotte begins in that fashion too. The lights go down, a fuzzed-up guitar riff tears the night in two, the bass drops in, and then the drums—steady and urgent as a heartbeat. 

Recorded between Paris and New York, Charlotte began life in the home of acclaimed fashion designer Matthew Williams (they became friends after Williams shared Fish’s music on Instagram, sparking a DM conversation). The first single, “Who Did You Touch Last Night?”, is meant to evoke the throbbing energy of a Parisian nightclub. Fish’s falsetto has never sounded stronger than it does here, as he embodies jealousy and vulnerability, repeating the aching question posed in the title. “Why did you think I won’t figure out?” he sings on the chorus, his voice caught somewhere between pained resignation and desperation. 

Befitting a project as concerned with vulnerability as it is with aspiration, Fish opened up his creative process to a producer for the first time on Charlotte: Jacob Portrait, of the melancholic funk act Unknown Mortal Orchestra, stepped into Fish’s world to lend a hand. It is a natural pairing; both are devotees of Prince, in particular, the late artist’s genius for creating emotional complexity and tension with uptempo songs that reveal themselves to be sorrowful with repeated listens. 

“Is It a Crime” is one of the most Prince-flavored moments on the album, a gorgeous, guitar-driven song about lingering feelings. “Is it a crime, crime—you’re on my mind?” Fish sings against a jagged riff, after the drums drop out. It is heavy and evocative; the moments of quiet on the track—the sense of space between sounds—make it feel existential in its questioning of right and wrong. 

With the wages of sin and temptation on its mind, “It’s Gonna Cost You” is another standout moment, a feverish funk examination of the toll ambition takes. It features some of Fish’s most impressive falsetto shouting, as he quips that he will be the “greatest that you’ve ever seen.” It is profane and sacred, ending with a contemplative moment of organ playing. 

As ever, Fish loves thinking about life’s big questions: How does childhood shape a person? What does it mean to have a gift the world wants access to? Raised in a strictly religious household and now out in the world on his own making his art, Fish possesses a boundaryless curiosity about ways of living and creating. Charlotte is his most fully realized project yet, the sound of a generational talent stepping into his power.