There’s a certain clarity that comes from standing at the edge of something uncertain. On Precipice, Indigo De Souza leans into that feeling fully, creating an album that turns emotional volatility into catharsis and bold pop experimentation into a kind of personal reckoning. It’s her most dynamic and deliberately expansive album to date — a deep dive into memory, identity, desire, and transformation, shaped by both rupture and resilience.

The North Carolina native wrote Precipice in the aftermath of heartbreak and change, relocating to Los Angeles for a series of blind studio sessions that became an unexpected wellspring. In producer Elliott Kozel (SZA, Yves Tumor, FINNEAS), she found a collaborator who met her at the intersection of vulnerability and ambition. Together they built a sound that’s as euphoric as it is grounded. Introspective pop that never loses its pulse. “I wanted to make music that could fill your heart with euphoria while you dance along,” De Souza says. “Pop songs with meaning and feeling.”

That mission finds its footing in “Not Afraid,” a centerpiece track that explores freedom and authenticity with shimmering force. Kozel gives the song room to breathe, and De Souza responds with one of her most affecting vocal performances. From there, the album opens up in all directions. “Heartthrob” seethes and surges, a riff-heavy rebuke of power imbalances and broken promises. “Crying Over Nothing” folds ‘80s synths into heartache that won’t dissolve. “Crush” flirts and teases with sugar-high energy and intimate revelations, while “Heartbreaker” drifts through the ache of disappointment with spare instrumentation and unguarded emotion.

De Souza’s lyrics remain diaristic, direct, and fiercely alive. Whether she’s dissecting emotional trauma, navigating new desire, or setting boundaries, there’s no artifice in her voice. “Be Like the Water” feels like a spiritual centerpiece, brimming with quiet conviction and sonic radiance. Finger chimes and organ tones swirl around her words like incense. “It’s about being brave and protecting your energy,” she says. “Following your gut.”

The title track captures the album’s emotional arc in four lines: “Coming to a precipice / Holding on for dear life / Looking out into the world / Everything has gone dark.” That moment of staring into the unknown becomes an invitation, not a warning. There’s pain here, but there’s power in confronting it head-on.

That tension played out in real life too. After completing Precipice, De Souza’s home was destroyed by Hurricane Helene, forcing her into another kind of edge. In between recovery efforts, she kept writing, already sketching out her next chapter. That drive pulses through Precipice like a lifeline. This is an album shaped by storms both internal and external, but it’s never defined by them.