In many ways, William Harries Graham’s latest EP feels like a coda to his exceptional 2024 coming-of-age LP, Annie’s House, but also a bridge that allows him to look forward. If the last album burrowed in the fertile ground of mid-20s relationships and heartbreak, Belrose Motel strikes more reminiscent than rawly immediate, a reflective reaping that allows Graham to plant for what must grow next. The self-recorded songs carry the haze of late-night processing, Graham’s buried vocals unfolding loose thoughts just before dawn in a mixture of memory and moving on. Annie resurfaces in the opener “NYC,” but now as a conjectured muse rather than lover. The sentiment echoes in the past-recast awareness of “Flicker Film” and the spoken-word “Lit Cigarettes” as emotion shifts toward fixed portraits of the past, while “Subway Out” wraps the EP with a forward-looking closure. “I find myself in your shoes more these days, and I think I grew up too fast,” he reckons on centerpiece “Grew Up,” capturing the essence of this closing chapter for the songwriter. Yet as Graham now moves beyond Belrose, those years have proven as much a period of artistic growth as personal.
This article appears in July 31 • 2026.
