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Ella Langley blooms into the next phase of life with new album ‘Dandelion’

Whether you are entering a big transition, trying to let go of a past relationship or just ready for the blooms of spring, Ella Langley’s latest album, “Dandelion,” has a song for you.
Album cover for “Dandelion” by Ella Langley. (Photo courtesy of SAWGOD Records/ Columbia Records)
Album cover for “Dandelion” by Ella Langley. (Photo courtesy of SAWGOD Records/ Columbia Records)

As I near graduation, I have been thinking a lot about who I want to be and the maturity I hope to possess once I walk across that stage. Realistically, there is not much that will change about myself in these short few weeks leading up to commencement, and I feel very unprepared and like I am not the fully formed adult I want to be. With this weighing on my mind, I have spent the past week listening to Ella Langley’s newest album, “Dandelion” which was released April 10.  I was using this album to escape from my impending doom, oops, I mean graduation, by diving into a mix of catchy bar songs, breakup ballads and odes to old country music. Much to my surprise, I found an album that was as much in transition as myself.  

After the success of her debut album, “Hungover,” released in 2024, which leaned more into the messiness of youth and having fun in your twenties, I expected Langley to continue down this path with her sophomore album. However, Langley shows a whole new side of herself in “Dandelion,” as she presents herself as someone who still has the fun and rowdiness of being in their twenties but who is also looking forward to what she wants in the future and the maturity that comes with that. 

This 18-track floral themed album was much anticipated given Langley’s string of ACM and CMA awards and the popularity of the album’s singles “Dandelion,” “Loving Life Again,” “Be Her” and the record-breaking, “Choosin’ Texas.”  

That said, Langley grounds the hype around this release by opening and closing the album with “Froggy Went A Courtin’” which is an old folk song that she grew up playing with her grandfather, bringing us into her roots and where her love of music comes from. This song immediately fades into the title track, “Dandelion” which is not just about self-acceptance but a pride in being one’s true self, which is fitting for this album as Langley introduces us into a new facet of herself and her artistry. 

As I said earlier, this album has a few songs such as “Choosin’ Texas,” “We Know Us,” “Low Lights” and “I Gotta Quit” that lean into classic bar songs, some lighter in nature and others that classify more as breakup ballads. “Choosin’ Texas,” the standout single, has already broken records as the longest-running No. 1 hit on the Billboard Hot 100 by a female country artist. It is incredibly viral, and even though it centers around someone being left for an ex in Texas as seen in the music video, it still lands in a way that feels universally relatable. There is something about its longing that immediately calls back to 80s and 90s female country, especially the “woman done wrong” storytelling tradition. Interestingly, it has also gained a surprising amount of traction with men online, which only adds to its cultural reach as Langley’s fans are now endearingly called “Ella Fellas.” 

On the other side of the barroom energy that Langley builds throughout much of the album are songs rooted in longing and lust. “We Know Us” and “Low Lights” sit in that space where self-awareness does not quite lead to change but instead circles back into familiar patterns. They capture that messy in-between stage of growth where you know what you should do but still end up doing the opposite. Sonically, both tracks lean groovier and loose compared to the heavier emotional weight elsewhere on the record, which makes their honesty feel almost deceptively light. But underneath that ease is a clear awareness of desire, temptation and emotional regression. “Low Lights” in particular feels like a conscious surrender to the night, where giving in is not accidental but chosen, even if only for a moment. 

That arc shifts again into some of the album’s most chaotic and radio-ready moments with “I Gotta Quit” and “Bottom of Your Boots,” which move into an unfiltered and chaotically fun space. “I Gotta Quit” is especially funky for Langley, carrying a racy honky tonk edge that feels playful and unhinged at the same time. It opens with a rambling, conversational energy that mirrors obsessive thought patterns, capturing the feeling of someone taking over your mind until it turns into frustration and comedy. In contrast, “Bottom of Your Boots” shifts into something more grounded and self-assured while staying upbeat and catchy, focusing on clarity and self-worth in relationships with lyrics like “if you’re gonna be with me, lay it on the table / tell me how you really feel, give it a label.” Where “I Gotta Quit” is reactive and chaotic, this track feels more composed, carried by a bright modern country-pop polish and an unbelievably catchy hook.  

The album of course pulls from older country tradition as well, most notably through its cover of “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels” by Kitty Wells, featuring Carter Faith and Jake Worthington. The track is rooted in the lineage of female country storytelling, but Langley brings it into her own world by keeping its barroom spirit intact while still making it feel contemporary within the context of the album.  

While Ella continued to do what she does best with those older country-inspired classics, the most compelling part of the album is how it leans into growth and maturity. That shift becomes the emotional center of “Dandelion,” especially in the way she moves between self-reflection, uncertainty and intentional change. It is not a clean evolution, but a lived one, where progress and regression exist at the same time, which is why I have related to it so much during my own transitional period. 

That tension between versions of self shows up most clearly in songs like “Be Her” and “Loving Life Again,” where Langley is actively reaching toward the person she wants to become while also reckoning with moments of disconnect from herself. “Be Her” stands out as one of the more pop driven contemporary cuts on the album while still carrying that underlying uncertainty about identity and aspiration. There is something almost ironic but also very vulnerable in Langley’s desire to embody someone else’s confidence on this track, especially given how many fans, myself included, already project that same polished image onto her as someone to look up to. In contrast “Loving Life Again” and “Something Simple” are much more stripped down and simple, letting the writing sit closer to the surface without distraction. Those songs pull away from ambition and lean into grounding and return suggesting that growth is not always about becoming more but sometimes about reconnecting with what already feels like home. 

The album continues into more vulnerable territory on “Speaking Terms” and “Broken.” These moments strip everything back emotionally, focusing less on narrative and more on feeling. Whether it is questioning faith in “Speaking Terms,” or simply allowing yourself to be undone and upset without rushing to fix it in “Broken,” these songs hold space for the kind of emotions that do not resolve cleanly. Instead, they sit in uncertainty and softness, letting silence and honesty carry more weight than resolution. 

That idea of acceptance is also present in the final stretch of the album, particularly in “Butterfly Season,” featuring Miranda Lambert, where change is no longer something to resist but something to acknowledge. While their voices are distinctly different, Langley and Lambert blend beautifully on this track and their age difference adds to this idea that it is never too late to make changes. Growth here is framed as seasonal, cyclical and inevitable, rather than linear. As I enter my own “Butterfly Season,” I hope to approach these changes with a similar grace.  

Of course, everything ultimately circles back to “Froggy Went A Courtin’,” which helps frame the album as more of an immersive experience that is now coming to a close. Langley also ends the album with her signature hint of humor with the lyrics “if you want anymore, you can sing it yourself.”  

Overall, “Dandelion” succeeds most in how it captures transition without trying to package it cleanly. That is what makes it feel so applicable to my life right now. As I am navigating my own version of change after Vanderbilt, I find myself relating less to the idea of having everything figured out and more to the reality of still growing up, still being in transition. This album also makes me curious and excited to see where Langley moves next from here, especially how these songs will translate live and what this era of change will lead to. 

About the Contributor
Michael Carroll
Michael Carroll, Former Deputy Life Editor
Michael Carroll (’26) double majored in engineering science and English with a minor in engineering management. When not writing for The Hustler, she can be found trying new coffee shops, reading outside on campus and watching local concerts. She can be reached at [email protected].
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