NOIRXSOUND

Over the last few years, Cleo Sol has become one of those artists I constantly find myself going back to. I can’t even remember exactly when I first discovered her—probably sometime around 2022 or 2023—but since then, she’s pretty much had a permanent spot in my R&B rotation.

Her music fits a very specific mood for me. It’s what I’ll throw on when I need to relax, clear my head, or just have something playing while I’m driving through downtown Chicago. Heaven and Gold especially became those kinds of albums for me. So naturally, I went into Gentlewoman with some pretty high expectations.

And “I Only Look to You” immediately gave me what I wanted.

It’s actually one of my favorite songs on the album. There’s nothing overly complicated about the way the record introduces itself. It’s warm, soulful and incredibly easy to settle into. More importantly, it establishes the mood of Gentlewoman almost immediately.

That leads into what I think is an incredible opening stretch.

“Sweet Thing” and “Imagine” are two more of my favorites, and this is where Cleo Sol and Inflo’s chemistry really shines. The production across this entire album is honestly damn near flawless. It’s warm and organic without sounding dated, and there’s so much space in these records for Cleo’s voice to breathe.

And her vocals sound beautiful.

Her voice sits right on top of the production in this really clean, effortless way. She never sounds like she’s fighting the instrumental or trying to overpower it. Everything just feels like it’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.

But after listening to Gentlewoman a few times, what really started sticking with me wasn’t necessarily the production.

It was what Cleo was actually talking about.

There’s a lot of love throughout this album, but I don’t think I’d describe Gentlewoman as simply an album about love. It’s also about what happens to you while you’re loving everybody else.

Romantic relationships, family, forgiveness, boundaries, self-respect—they all show up in different ways. And underneath all of it, I hear a woman reconsidering how much of herself she’s willing to sacrifice for the people she loves.

That’s also where the title started making more sense to me.

There’s an interesting balance between being gentle and still being strong. Cleo can sing about vulnerability without making vulnerability sound like weakness. She can love somebody and still recognize when she needs boundaries. She can be compassionate toward someone without making herself responsible for fixing them.

To me, that’s the “gentlewoman” at the center of the album.

And “Family Ties” might be one of the clearest examples of that. It’s another one of my favorite records here because it takes something we’re usually taught is unconditional—family—and acknowledges how complicated that can actually become. You can love somebody and still need distance from them. You can forgive somebody without continuing to carry their problems for them.

There’s a maturity to that message that I really appreciate.

And I’ll say this as a man listening to the record: Gentlewoman definitely feels like an album rooted in a woman’s perspective. I don’t think that means it’s an album only for women, though.

If anything, I enjoyed being able to hear Cleo articulate some of these experiences from a perspective that isn’t necessarily my own. Because once you get underneath the specifics, loving people without losing yourself, setting boundaries, dealing with complicated family relationships and trying to protect your peace are things almost anybody can understand.

The production is gorgeous. Cleo sounds incredible. The writing has depth without feeling like it’s desperately trying to be profound. And the more I’ve listened to it, the more I’ve started appreciating what she’s doing with the album as a whole.

I’ll be honest, I don’t have quite the same emotional connection to Gentlewoman that I developed with Heaven or Gold. Maybe that’ll change with time. Those albums have had a few years to live with me, while I’m still getting to know this one.

And Gentlewoman feels like the kind of record that needs to live with you for a while.

It’s warm. It’s reflective. It’s incredibly well-made. And underneath all of that beauty is an idea I keep coming back to: loving other people shouldn’t require disappearing inside of that love yourself.

Cleo Sol approaches that idea through womanhood, family, romance, forgiveness and self-preservation without ever making the album feel like a lecture.

For me, Gentlewoman is easily one of the better R&B albums I’ve heard this year.

It isn’t perfect, and the pacing keeps me from giving it a perfect score. But three listens in, I’m already finding more to appreciate about it than I did the first time.

And knowing how Cleo Sol’s music tends to stick around in my rotation, I have a feeling I’m not done with this one yet.