Lucy Frost has today released her new single titled ‘Prescription’. There’s a feeling here that suggests an opening chapter rather than a standalone moment, like the song is less interested in resolving itself than in setting a mood that lingers beyond its runtime. It carries the kind of patience you usually hear on records that trust their own arc, allowing space for thought instead of rushing toward impact. Listening feels less like consuming a track and more like stepping into a room where something has already been happening before you arrived.
What’s interesting is how the song seems aware of its surroundings, as if it’s in quiet conversation with the rest of a larger body of work. The textures don’t compete for attention; they coexist, drifting in and out with an ease that suggests confidence rather than minimalism for its own sake. The vocal presence doesn’t dominate so much as guide, offering just enough emotional clarity to anchor the listener while leaving plenty unsaid. It’s the kind of restraint that feels intentional, even generous.
Taken in that broader sense, this song works best as part of a continuum, hinting at themes that likely echo elsewhere while standing firm on its own emotional footing. It doesn’t chase immediacy or attempt to wrap itself in a neat conclusion. Instead, it invites repeat listens, not to decode it, but to sit with it. And in that willingness to linger, to let meaning arrive on its own terms, the song earns its place as something more than a moment—it feels like part of a conversation still unfolding.
About ‘Prescription’
‘Prescription’ is a sonically vulnerable song that frames love as both a remedy and a mode of relapse. Comparing belief in her partner to coaxing an ailment, Lucy Frost scathingly describes a brewing, festering fear that triggers body tremors and an eventual breakdown. A gentle pop soundscape sways into a soft, acoustic-driven verse as the clever songwriter pens, “I took your word like a prescription / God, I was addicted, swallowed up your lies.” Frost admits she cut off affection after realizing she no longer liked her ‘prescription,’ an allegory for poor treatment at the hands of others and her desire for a meaningful connection.
“‘Prescription’ is the sonic form of anxiety and discomfort bubbling up to the surface until it inevitably is released into a freeing flood of emotion,” Frost explains. “Playing this song live for the first time actually shaped how I wanted this track to feel in the studio; very raw and honest, with the intention that listeners will also experience a means of releasing their own pressures trapped inside.” To finalize the track, she brought in producers Nick Schmidt, Mosaic, and Graham Maola. Moving between synth-pop tension and warm guitar strums, Frost creates a catchy pop anthem that hooks listeners in like a vortex.
A Boston native, Lucy Frost developed an interest in musical composition and songwriting from a young age. Frigid days in New England inspired her relatable songwriting, alongside artists like Elliot Smith, Jeff Buckley, and Bob Dylan, as well as the modern wit of Billie Eilish and Lola Young. Sporting a background in film scoring and multi-instrumentalism, the Los Angeles transplant uniquely blends engaging narratives with cinematic textures. Releases like “D Day,” “Reputation,” and “Angeles” reflected the ebbs and flows of Frost’s life, while containing universal narratives tied to change and internal growth. Frost has honed her live performances, taking the stage at many of Los Angeles’ iconic venues like Hotel Cafe and Harvard & Stone, and Boston’s The Burren and The Village Social Club.
About Lucy Frost
Boston native Lucy Frost developed an interest in musical composition and songwriting from a young age. Frigid days in New England inspired her relatable songwriting and powerful lyrics, alongside artists like Elliot Smith, Jeff Buckley, and Bob Dylan, as well as the modern wit of Billie Eilish and Lola Young. The now Los Angeles transplant uniquely blends engaging narratives with cinematic textures to create her own dark-pop, singer-songwriter sound. Her singles “D Day,” “Reputation,” and “Angeles “reflect the ebbs and flows of Lucy’s life, while containing universal themes tied to change and internal growth.
A graduate of Berklee College of Music, her background in film scoring and experience as a multi-instrumentalist form her unique ability to write and produce in all genres, working for both artists and sync companies. Her recent songwriting and composing collaborations include artists like Natalie Jane, Ari Abdul, Devon Gabriella, and Bluey Thomas, and producer/writers like Tim Myers, Will Van Zandt, Doc Daniel, and more.
As she continues to develop her artistry, Lucy Frost has refined her live performances, taking the stage at many of Los Angeles’ iconic venues, including Hotel Cafe and Harvard & Stone, as well as Boston’s The Burren and The Village Social Club.
Featured image by There’s a feeling here that suggests an opening chapter rather than a standalone moment, like the song is less interested in resolving itself than in setting a mood that lingers beyond its runtime. It carries the kind of patience you usually hear on records that trust their own arc, allowing space for thought instead of rushing toward impact. Listening feels less like consuming a track and more like stepping into a room where something has already been happening before you arrived.
What’s interesting is how the song seems aware of its surroundings, as if it’s in quiet conversation with the rest of a larger body of work. The textures don’t compete for attention; they coexist, drifting in and out with an ease that suggests confidence rather than minimalism for its own sake. The vocal presence doesn’t dominate so much as guide, offering just enough emotional clarity to anchor the listener while leaving plenty unsaid. It’s the kind of restraint that feels intentional, even generous.
Taken in that broader sense, this song works best as part of a continuum, hinting at themes that likely echo elsewhere while standing firm on its own emotional footing. It doesn’t chase immediacy or attempt to wrap itself in a neat conclusion. Instead, it invites repeat listens, not to decode it, but to sit with it. And in that willingness to linger, to let meaning arrive on its own terms, the song earns its place as something more than a moment—it feels like part of a conversation still unfolding.
Featured image by There’s a feeling here that suggests an opening chapter rather than a standalone moment, like the song is less interested in resolving itself than in setting a mood that lingers beyond its runtime. It carries the kind of patience you usually hear on records that trust their own arc, allowing space for thought instead of rushing toward impact. Listening feels less like consuming a track and more like stepping into a room where something has already been happening before you arrived.
What’s interesting is how the song seems aware of its surroundings, as if it’s in quiet conversation with the rest of a larger body of work. The textures don’t compete for attention; they coexist, drifting in and out with an ease that suggests confidence rather than minimalism for its own sake. The vocal presence doesn’t dominate so much as guide, offering just enough emotional clarity to anchor the listener while leaving plenty unsaid. It’s the kind of restraint that feels intentional, even generous.
Taken in that broader sense, this song works best as part of a continuum, hinting at themes that likely echo elsewhere while standing firm on its own emotional footing. It doesn’t chase immediacy or attempt to wrap itself in a neat conclusion. Instead, it invites repeat listens, not to decode it, but to sit with it. And in that willingness to linger, to let meaning arrive on its own terms, the song earns its place as something more than a moment—it feels like part of a conversation still unfolding.
Featured image by Kelly Choi.
LINKS:
https://lucyfrostmusic.com/
https://www.tiktok.com/@lucyfrostmusic
https://www.instagram.com/lucyfrostmusic
https://lucyfrost.bandcamp.com/
https://open.spotify.com/artist/68rOPXerz0MYCpK05DYWjo