Kelsie Kimberlin - “Sucker” - Punched by the Truth, this Breakup Anthem Hits Hard and Grooves Harder!
- Esther
- Jun 15
- 4 min read
Just two months ago, Kelsie Kimberlin had us spellbound with “Perfume”, a track that lingered like memory itself, steeped in synths and metaphor, whispering truths through subtle seduction. Now, the D.C.-based pop provocateur returns with “Sucker”, and the volume is turned up, not in decibels, but in emotional stakes. Where “Perfume” pulled us into the quiet ache of remembrance, this one cracks open the raw aftermath of giving too much to someone who gave back too little. Together, the two tracks forms kind of a compelling diptych, perfume as the trace they left behind, sucker as the moment you realize you should’ve walked away. Kimberlin isn’t just releasing singles; she’s sculpting an emotional arc in real time, and each chapter reveals a sharper, more resonant voice.
If you’ve ever been in a relationship where you always gave more than you got, where your heart kept hoping long after the red flags had stopped waving and started burning, this might just hit you like a velvet punch to the gut. Right from the start, “Sucker” grabs you with a moody, magnetic groove, a spinning percussive hook and deep bassline that sets a tone both cool and bruised. Then Kimberlin’s voice floats in, wounded but not broken and singing -
“Where’d you go when I needed you most? / You disappeared like a high-tailed ghost...”
We’re in her world. One where betrayal echoes loudest in the silences, where heartbreak dances over a deceptively catchy rhythm, and where self-realization is the quiet hero of the story. There’s something delightfully paradoxical about it, the chorus blooms with glittering synths, organs, and lush harmonies, even as Kimberlin confesses her desperation -
“I’m a sucker, and you showed me / I’m alone now and I need you...”
It’s this contrast, the upbeat alt-pop shimmer versus the lyrical ache, that gives the song its edge. The production, helmed by a team including Pedro Vengoechea, Yuria Shapeta, and Vasyl Tkach, and refined by Grammy veterans Liam Nolan (Adele) and Stuart Hawkes (Amy Winehouse), builds a sonic space where sadness sparkles and heartbreak grooves. The bridge pulls everything back, just voice, minimal bass, soft percussion, letting the emotion breathe before launching back into the rhythmic pull of the final chorus. There’s also a vocal vulnerability here that doesn’t feel manufactured. Kimberlin’s delivery moves from weary to wistful to quietly resolute, with subtle inflections that make every line feel like a confession whispered over a bedroom floor at 2 a.m. The music video, directed by Kimberlin herself during her recent time in Kyiv, Ukraine, adds a compelling visual layer. Set in a room full of instruments, the video becomes a kind of emotional Rube Goldberg machine, Kimberlin trying on piano, guitar, drums, etc., as if each could unlock a way out of the toxic dynamic the song describes. None work permanently. They provide moments of joy, brief distraction. But the real escape has to come from within. It’s a deeply personal performance that balances theatrical flair with raw authenticity, every expression, every movement echoing the internal dissonance of being emotionally entangled in someone who isn’t showing up. Filmmaker Pavlo Khomiuk’s co-conceptual vision ties the whole thing together as a reflection of both musical creativity and emotional survival.
In Kelsie's own words, the track is autobiographical, but also reflective of “so many girls I have known who have been taken advantage of by boys who simply strung them along.” That transparency feels like the heartbeat of the song, a kind of public processing that becomes communal healing. Kimberlin doesn’t shy away from tough truths. She acknowledges her own complicity, her own hopefulness that lingered too long. But she also doesn’t wallow. It becomes a song not about defeat, but about recognition. And in that recognition, there’s power. She wants her audience, especially young women, to hear the song as both solace and signal that you’re not alone, and you don’t have to stay stuck. “Life is too short to cater to a jerk”, she says and somehow it lands less like a slogan, more like a hard-won mantra. Kimberlin has recorded over 100 original songs, many with top-tier collaborators, but 2025 seems poised to be her breakout year. She’s currently finishing a feature-length film on Ukrainian resistance, which she filmed in Kyiv, where this music video was also shot and plans to tour globally with the film and its accompanying soundtrack. In April, she was honored with the United Nations Humanitarian Award and the St. George’s Royal Medal of Honor by King Charles, acknowledgments not just of her musical talent, but her cultural and humanitarian contributions. That depth carries into her art, too. Kimberlin isn’t simply a pop artist chasing trends. She’s using her platform to engage, to reflect, and to say something. If you’re picking up the pieces, dancing through the pain, or finally seeing the truth in hindsight, let “Sucker” be your soundtrack. Send it to someone who needs it, and keep your eyes on Kimberlin, we’re all in for something unforgettable. For now, listen from below.
You can check out and follow Kelsie Kimberlin’s artistic journey on her website here - https://kelsiekimberlin.com
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