Musician Logan Lynn left Portland in 2022 after the release of his last album, New Money (Kill Rock Stars), to be with his boyfriend. Though they tried to build a life together, it wasn’t meant to be. As Lynn prepares for his move back to Portland this fall, he rolls out a new record just in time for LGBTQ+ Pride Month commemorating what he learned about himself during his time in the Gem State.
“It’s really one of these ‘all’s well, ends well’ type of things,” Lynn says.
SOFTCORE released on Friday, June 7. The album belongs in the same company as pop’s great breakup records where love lost is the fertile ground of self-actualization instead of the salted soil of failure, like Adele’s 25, Kacey Musgraves’ Star-Crossed, or Kelly Clarkson’s Chemistry, with that album’s unexpected ode to gay icon Rock Hudson. Lynn adds an unapologetic dose of “post-nut clarity” with SOFTCORE, that mental reset many people experience after an orgasm.
“I definitely did an unflinching journey inward, and I think I’ve done that in the past, but it’s been buried in metaphor,” Lynn says. “This time I was needing to turn things inside out. A lot of that sexuality that’s on the record, a lot of the rage, the joy, is the different stages of grief I was going through, and recalibrating myself.”
The 11-track record opens with a cover of Smog’s “To Be of Use,” an emotionally disarming piano and vox song that serves as a signal that every subsequent sonic emotion released by Lynn is earnest.
“I’m Just a Hole, Sir” encapsulates those moments during meaningless sex where you don’t know whom you loathe more: your partner, or yourself. The production starts off with icy synths, but thaws into a lively punk rock anthem. The way Lynn’s “ooo”‘s squirm as he sings lines like “I don’t like you/And I don’t want you/No I don’t love you/And I don’t need you” will burrow like earworms.
“I think it’s good for straight people to be exposed to all aspects of gay life—we aren’t nonsexual creatures,” Lynn says. “We have sex just like straight people and it seems silly to me that the culture can accept that from a female artist or a cisgender male artist, but not somebody like me.”
“I Feel Alone When I’m With You,” is a similar realization and rejection of someone who makes lonesomeness look better than the company they provide. It’s a surprisingly upbeat song devoid of bitterness, but frank in its unhappiness. “I can be angry on my own/I don’t need some man to make me moan,” Lynn sings.
Lynn cites Weezer and Liz Phair as SOFTCORE’s main influences. Sometimes Lynn sounds like he got Ben Folds to assist with bombastic, keys-forward songs filled with emotionally exposed lyrics, but also like he would have filled in the rest with his own uniquely, refreshingly gay lyrics and vocal delivery.
Lynn filmed four music videos for SOFTCORE’s singles, releasing them online throughout this past year. His favorite video is for the title track, which was released June 5. All four videos were released together as a short film two days later. “SOFTCORE” seems Lynn switching between a carceral orange jumpsuit and billowing, tufted tulle robe and headpiece on the dance floor.
“I got to play dress-up this round in a pretty extravagant way, which was fun and femme and butch at the same time,” Lynn says.
SOFTCORE’s horniness isn’t unheard of in music, but artists like Lynn who express their sexuality so freely rarely get the exposure they deserve. “I want to be so gay, so queer that even allies are like, ‘Oh my God,’” Lynn says, laughing. “My art has always been about stuff I’m scared of, that I can’t live out so I sing about, about sex in a way that I don’t feel is represented in music. I don’t give a fuck, is the bottom line.”