On his second album, Do That Again, L.A. singer-songwriter Malcolm Todd leans into bedroom-pop intimacy—smoothing genre edges while shrinking big feelings down to human scale.
He’s used to worrying in public.
When Malcolm Todd released his self-titled 2025 debut. the L.A.-based singer-songwriter opened with a blunt kind of career doubt—he worried he might not make it because he’s “not a Harry Styles.” It’s an admission that lands less like pose and more like pressure. the kind rising artists carry when the spotlight feels both close and unreachable.
On his new album, Do That Again, Todd keeps that realism but changes the temperature. “Life’s not a movie/I’m not a movie star. ” he sings on “I Saw Your Face. ” trading illusions of grandeur for something gentler and sharper at the same time: earnestly romantic lines that also sound like they know exactly what they’re risking.
The bedroom-pop sound is there from track to track, but it isn’t trapped in one lane. Todd blends indie confessionals with R&B valentines, letting the songs feel lived-in. On “Breathe. ” for example. subtle bass bumps and lowkey Chic-guitar flecks build a mood that could be an emotionally risky hookup—one that doesn’t need fireworks to feel dangerous. “I probably shouldn’t do it. but I’ll do it for the song. ” he sings. and the decision feels both impulsive and oddly honest.
That mix is part of a wider orbit Todd seems to move in naturally. He fits among artists like Omar Apollo—whom he’s toured with—alongside Mk.Gee and Steve Lacy. musicians known for blending genres without making it a talking point. Todd’s gift is similar: boiling big emotions down to the most human scale.
On “Jean Skirt. ” he turns sweaty clothes-on-the-floor imagery into watery guitars. like a scene you can smell and still can’t explain. “Free99. ” the brackish ballad. dreamily reflects on fading innocence. while “Difficult Love” luxuriates in the only kind of love Todd seems to know—set over a plush hip-hop-tinged bounce.
Not every track plays it soft. “Malcolm in the Middle” nods to the popular early-2000s sitcom of the same name. The reference isn’t just nostalgia. either: Todd’s father was a writer on the show. and Todd appeared as a kid. But the song doesn’t turn that background into a cloying complaint about growing up almost-famous. Instead. it works like a relationship-political reckoning. landing bereft lines with forlorn verve—“if you can’t tell a word I say then I won’t make a sound.”.
Even when the music brushes against classic pop ghosts, it does so to add new angles to familiar heartbreak. The album offers moments that can evoke a modern homespun permutation of Daryl Hall and John Oates, or even Prince, while the lyrics bring their own wrinkles to the same old ache.
On “Lonely Song. ” Todd offers one of those lines that feels instantly wearable: “My doorbell only rings when my food is at the door.” It’s funny for a second—then it tightens. The feeling is so specific it loops back to universal. the kind of loneliness that makes sense even if you’ve never lived his exact version of it.
By the time the album lands there, the title makes more sense than it did at first. Do That Again doesn’t ask you to forget the risk. It asks you to look at why you’d step into it anyway. And for a singer who once framed his odds by comparing himself to Harry Styles. the point is strikingly clear: Todd doesn’t need to become someone else to feel the songs hit. He just needs to tell the truth loudly enough that it sounds like a song you’d want to replay.
Malcolm Todd Do That Again bedroom pop indie confessionals R&B valentines I Saw Your Face Breathe Jean Skirt Free99 Difficult Love Malcolm in the Middle Lonely Song Omar Apollo Mk.Gee Steve Lacy