Perth/Boorloo indie-pop / alt / folk artist ALEIA has a rare gift for alchemising heartache into something luminous, and that gift finds its fullest form on her debut EP Public Humiliation, arriving November 6. The title track, out now, spills first like ink across the page. It’s a tender, tear-streaked addition to a collection that traces the bruised outlines of modern love, the ache of almosts, and the quiet humiliation of wanting too much in a world that gives too little.

On ‘Public Humiliation’ ALEIA’s instrumentation is delicate yet deliberate, a slow bloom where every element feels exposed. Gentle, slow-strummed guitar sets a mournful tone, soft at first, then growing sharper and more resolute as the pained feeling crests. Layered vocals glide in close, intimate and aching, creating a space that feels like a whispered confession shared in the quiet aftermath of heartbreak.

Wrapped in a shroud of melancholy, drums and electric guitar join, riffing slowly in a weary, reflective haze. The track clings to its grit like a haunted memory, and as the chorus arrives, it exhales in raw release, carried by chilling synths.

Another page from her life’s story, ‘Public Humiliation’ reflects on how today’s dating pool feels more like a tsunami, where situationships are an unavoidable phenomenon in the waves, leaving the people they drench exhausted, embarrassed, and feeling like they should have known better.