Any project reckoning with the idea of ‘home’ in your 20s is bound to take a deeper meaning.

A time in your life characterised by inherent uncertainty and grey areas, Queen Quail projects these blurred lines into succinct production scapes and precise lyrical fusions on Narcissus. The artist’s latest EP is exploratory as it is reflective, and is a wonderful culmination of Queen Quail’s musical journey so far.

The artist project of Berlin-based songwriter Kristin Edwards, Queen Quail saw her beginnings as a cellist and guitarist from a young age. Raised in Milwaukee, she cites the Lake Michigan surroundings as her inspiration for her distinctive layered, intimate sound. The songwriter’s genesis was an interesting one – a trip to the botanical gardens in Berlin saw her cross paths with a “Zwergwachtel” or dwarf quail. Edwards instantly recognised herself in the small creature, if not for its quiet focus and energetic nature.

Now debuting Narcissus, Queen Quail, across six tracks, balances sparkling indie pop sensibilities with the warm storytelling of alternative country. Narcissus seeks to explore longing, identity, and the search for home. But by its end, what’s told is a tale of resilience, unabashed self-discovery, and optimistic overcoming.

Queen Quail "Narcissus" © Celeste Call — Queen Quail “Narcissus” © Celeste Call

**Mirroring the record’s message was Queen Quail’s conception of Narcissus – years of songwriting and refined musicianship resulted in her own sort of self-recognition.**

Following a turbulent relationship, Edwards turned to songwriting as a form of solitary therapy. What began as a private practice quickly became a way for her to understand her own inner workings as a 20-something year old in the world. The artist also cites Freud and Lacan as her habitual reading materials at the time, which, according to her, “definitely slipped into the lyrics and the way I thought about memory, love, and the unconscious, and how capitalism plays into this.”

Enter “Grace”: smooth vocals vibrate atop reverberating electric guitars, opening the door for wooshing synths to come flooding through the gateway of the chorus. “Last Night” tracks the highs and lows of hindsight, while “Narcissist” sees Edwards pose the question to herself “Am I a narcissist?” right at the outset. Tracing the somber reckonings of imagination, societal projections, and perspective – the titular track sees Edwards right on the borderline of these ideas. “I Met God” is a singular reflection, mirrored in the sparse production that gains depth with every listen, where Edwards’ vocals stand seemingly isolated in its sonic atmosphere.

“Southside” laments on a haunting. Edwards’ croons over broken chords and swooping synthetic textures, before exploding into a landscape of colour and sound led by distorted guitars, allowing Edwards’ vocals to take a back seat before retracting again on a melancholic guitar hook. Closing on “Mud,” Edwards reflects on agency, while sonically, looks ahead – an optimistic rumination fading out into its end.

Narcissus is an EP that sought to pierce the uncertainty of young adulthood.

For Edwards, it was a way of processing the unknown while expanding her own creative curiosity. What arrives is an EP that does more than this, it’s a project grounded in memory and philosophical precision – a selection of songs that is introspective as it is expansive, a solid peek into an artist claiming her voice.

In her own words, “at its core, this record is both a mirror and a map, looking back at doubt and transformation, but also pointing toward what comes next.”

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