For almost a decade, listeners have felt Emily Haber’s presence without ever seeing her name on the marquee. The Los Angeles‑based songwriter has ghost‑painted intimate portraits for artists as varied as multi‑platinum pop optimist Andy Grammer, queer folk‑pop trailblazer Miki Ratsula, and the luminous Joy Oladokun. Her gift is specificity: lyrics so finely sketched that another singer can slip inside them and feel instantly at home. On Nostalgia—a five‑song suite of folky pop released this spring—Haber finally keeps a handful of those sketches for herself. The result is an autobiographical coming‑of‑age record that lingers like perfume on a favorite sweater: comforting, bittersweet, and unmistakably personal.
A scrapbook of memory and loss
Nostalgia opens with its title track, a mid‑tempo acoustic shimmer that captures the EP’s central ache: missing something that has already slipped through your fingers—or perhaps was never fully yours. Haber’s voice, airy but resolute, traces childhood cul‑de‑sacs and first crushes with the gentle awe of someone leafing through an old photo album. “There’s beauty in remembering, even when it hurts,” she says of the project’s guiding emotion, and each song honors that tension between ache and appreciation.
The collection’s emotional apex arrives on “Next Time,” written in the long shadow of her mother’s passing. Over hushed guitar and a cathedral‑echo of strings, Haber imagines another lifetime where mother and daughter meet again “beneath a sky that doesn’t fade.” It is grief distilled to its most hopeful element: a promise to keep loving in spite of absence. Recording the song, Haber admits, “made me feel close to her in a way I hadn’t in a long time.” That closeness extends outward; alongside the EP she is preparing a free digital grief journal to help others navigate both anticipatory and after‑the‑fact loss.
From co‑writer to storyteller
While Nostalgia marks Haber’s debut as a solo artist, the set benefits from her years in writing rooms. Each lyric lands with an economy learned from tailoring songs to other voices, yet these stories remain unmistakably her own. Producer Daniel Dávila surrounds them with understated flourishes—finger‑picked guitars, layered harmonies, the occasional swirl of pedal steel—that keep the spotlight on Haber’s narrative clarity. Dusty Moon’s mix maintains the intimacy, polishing without sanding away the bedroom warmth.
Haber’s path to front‑and‑center was never guaranteed. Born with severe bilateral hearing loss, she has relied on hearing aids her entire life. Singing, she once believed, was for other people. Songwriting became her backstage pass to music until, over time, she found confidence in the texture and truth of her own voice. The decision to release these particular songs was less a career move than an instinct: “I finally wrote a few songs that felt like they were mine to keep,” she explains.
The sound of quiet strength
Throughout Nostalgia, Haber balances melancholy with resilience. “Skylark Drive” revisits teenage summers and the electric possibility of first love, its chorus lifting like fireflies over a lawn at dusk. “Half‑Built Houses” uses remodeling metaphors to explore relationships stalled between demolition and rebuilding, while closer “Everything After” drifts toward acceptance on a current of brushed drums and muted horns.
What unifies the EP is a gentle insistence on hope. Even the saddest memories glitter with the knowledge that they shaped the person singing about them. Haber distills that feeling into three words for the project: emotional, hopeful, reflective. It is music that invites the listener to sit with their own scrapbook—tears, laughter, and all—and discover that remembering can be an act of healing.
What comes next
Haber returns to her bustling co‑writing schedule—she averages hundreds of sessions a year—and continues to craft songs for film and television. Yet she is careful not to rush the next personal chapter.
“I want to keep creating space for honesty in my own music, but without forcing it,” she says. “The songs always find their way when they’re ready.”
In the meantime, she’s living the full life that fuels her art: road‑trip playlists heavy on Madi Diaz, The Weepies, and Julien Baker; evenings spent with friends who understand that sometimes the most radical thing an artist can do is simply be present. And when the next song does arrive—whether for another voice or her own—Emily Haber will be ready, guitar in hand, listening for the precise words that make memory feel like it’s happening in real time.
Connect with Emily Haber on Instagram to follow the journey.
