This record feel like a diary left open on a nightstand, complete with crossed-out lines, hesitations, and rumpled pages. Released in 2012, I Thought I Was an Alien established Soko’s core identity: an unvarnished bedroom folk suspended between American singer-songwriter traditions and a very direct European melancholy. Far from polished studio productions, the album turns small sonic imperfections into its primary expressive force. The strength of the record lies in its radical exposure. Soko’s voice trembles, cracks, and whispers just inches from the microphone, anchored by dry acoustic guitars and simple, low-fidelity keyboards. Nothing is hidden behind heavy reverb. The songwriting deals with isolation, awkward romance, and the persistent feeling of not quite fitting in anywhere. This vulnerability avoids emotional cliché through a sharp sense of melody and unfiltered honesty. Revisiting the album today, its raw freshness remains completely intact. It serves as a quiet reminder that accuracy in music isn't about pitch perfection, but the sincerity of the intention behind it.