Jerry Paper - Like A Baby (LP)

Like A Baby is the moment Jerry Paper stepped into clearer focus. Released October 12, 2018 on Stones Throw Records, it ties together Lucas Nathan’s deadpan humor and soft-edged synth craft with a newfound studio glow. That label switch matters. Stones Throw is a home for oddballs who take their craft seriously, and this record sounds like someone reveling in that freedom. It’s dreamy, sometimes daffy, and quietly pointed about how weird it feels to be a person glued to screens and routines.

The sound is plush and precise. Nathan’s signature palette of analog-leaning synths, rubbery bass, and feather-light drum programming is still the backbone, but there’s more air and color in the room. Co-produced with Matty Tavares of BadBadNotGood, the album leans into lounge-pop chords and bossa-curious rhythms without tipping into kitsch. You get the feeling of a small, attentive band tracking late at night while someone tweaks a filter cutoff until the pad sits just right. It’s intimate listening, the kind that makes a needle drop feel like a small ceremony, which is why Like A Baby vinyl gets a lot of play in my living room.

Lyrically, he keeps the jokes close to the existential nerve. The title hints at fragility, but the record is not a pity party. It’s more like a gentle inventory of habits and anxieties, written with a shrug and a grin. Even the sweetest melodies carry a little side-eye at the self. Jerry Paper’s characters long for connection, then wander back to their comforts. It’s all very modern. It’s also part of what keeps these songs replayable. The punchlines land softly, then you notice the chord that shifts under them, and you’re hooked again.

“Your Cocoon” was one of the early singles, and it still feels like the album’s elevator pitch. Slippery bass line, glassy keys, a melody that curls around the hook like smoke. The song asks what we hide inside, then lulls you into answering with a dance step instead of a diary entry. “Grey Area” leans brighter, a synth-pop earworm that plays with uncertainty as if it were a color you could wear. Both tracks show Nathan’s knack for keeping the arrangements light on their feet. Tiny details keep popping in the corners, little woodblock taps and keyboard flickers that reward a good pair of headphones or a quiet room with a turntable.

What really sells Like A Baby is the sequencing. It moves like a daydream. No dramatic peaks, no forced catharsis, just a warm, gently funky glide that lets the emotional shading do the heavy lifting. Side A feels like waking up and stretching into clarity. Side B drifts a touch more inward, slightly blurrier at the edges, with vocals that sit a little closer to the listener. It’s the kind of record you can flip and live inside for an hour, and it still surprises you on the fifth or sixth pass.

Critics heard it too. The FADER and Stereogum rolled out the singles with cheerful approval, and Pitchfork highlighted the balance of sincerity and silliness that makes Nathan such a singular voice. That word singular fits here. Nobody else does soft-focus synth-pop that feels this handmade and this emotionally legible. You can hear the care in the chord choices and the way the vocals sit just behind the beat, like a friend who prefers to speak from the couch rather than the stage.

If you collect Jerry Paper vinyl, this one is essential. The mastering flatters the low end and lets the high frequencies shimmer without the brittle edge that can plague digital streams. For crate diggers who browse a Melbourne record store on Saturday or hunt vinyl records Australia-wide online on a weeknight, keep your eye out. Stones Throw pressings tend to hold up well, and the artwork suits a front-facing shelf. If you need a quick route, buy Jerry Paper records online from a trusted shop and file Like A Baby next to your sophisti-pop and soft-psych staples. It bridges those zones with a wink.

Jerry Paper albums on vinyl are little postcards from a private planet. Like A Baby might be the clearest snapshot, a set of songs that hum along with daily life while nudging at the edges of it. Put it on when you’re making coffee or sitting in the early evening light. You’ll find yourself smiling at a line, then rewinding to hear how the synth blooms behind it. That’s the quiet thrill this album nails. It keeps the room warm while it looks you in the eye.