Yorkshire songstress Kindelan captures the sting of hindsight, the ache of lost love, and the haunting regret of everything left unsaid in “Wish I Wrote a Love Song,” a smoldering alt-soul reverie dwelling in the depths of memory and mourning, desire and disillusionment.
for fans of Lianne La Havas, néomí, Charlotte OC, Tom Odell
“Wish I Wrote a Love Song” – Kindelan
It’s the song you never write that haunts you.
In the wreckage of a fading love, Kindelan captures the ache of hindsight and the heaviness of unsaid things – of tender truths left unspoken, and warmth that quietly slipped away. A smoldering, seductive alt-soul reverie, her new song “Wish I Wrote a Love Song” aches inside and out – a slow-burning reckoning with memory and meaning, desire and disillusionment. With her spellbinding voice and signature jazz-tinged intimacy, Kindelan paints longing in its purest form: The longing for a love that once felt safe, sacred, and mutual – and the pain of realizing it’s already gone.
I wish I wrote a love song
Last November
Wish that I’d written it down so
I’d remember
Lucid, easy
When the world fell in line
with our feelings
Maintained, content
Playing house in the basement
You made where I walked
A space for anything because
There was a list
With my name on top of it
Atwood Magazine is proud to be premiering “Wish I Wrote a Love Song,” a soul-stirring eruption of raw feeling from Yorkshire-based singer/songwriter Kindelan. Releasing July 3rd via Bridge the Gap, the track arrives as the “before” in After Before, a narrative-driven double single exploring two sides of the same love story in reverse. Where counterpart “Cigarettes” plunges into the chaotic unraveling of intimacy, “Wish I Wrote a Love Song” traces its fragile beginnings – when everything still felt light, easy, and true – albeit through the lens of its demise.
Written and produced alongside longtime collaborator Ed Allen, the track sees Laura Kindelan deepening her signature alt-soul sound with gritty texture, warm fingerpicked guitar, and immersive harmonies that recall the elegance of Lianne La Havas and the lyrical insight of Madison Cunningham.
I wish I wrote a love song
Last November
Wish that I’d written it down so
I’d remember
Being a form you’d seen
Becoming someone you needed
I wish I wrote a love song
When you loved her
“The line that started ‘Wish I Wrote a Love Song’ was ‘I wish I wrote a love song last November. Wish that I’d written it down, so I’d remember…’ Writing this lyric was the first moment I consciously admitted to myself that I wasn’t happy in my relationship,” Kindelan tells Atwood Magazine. “I remember writing this line and then immediately clocking out. It took me until after we were no longer together to revisit this first line and write the rest of the song.”
“November is significant to me because my birthday is the 5th of November, and my previous birthday marked a really special time in this love story. It was a time that I felt valued, secure, and prioritised, and the world happened to be quiet enough for us to move together at the same pace.”
“As a songwriter, I’m always observing and experiencing the world through this lens, writing as I go. However, until this song, I’d never really written about love; I hadn’t even used the word ‘love’ in a single lyric. So many times, I was pulled to write down phrases like ‘my love is so simple’ and ‘my love feels so right,’ but I never did. That love song was never written, and I never captured that feeling. So, in its absence, lives this song. It tells the story of this love’s demise, while expressing a yearning to have had something to hold onto from this time.”
Sleep well
Goodnight
Wake up to no reply
Your time’s in an hourglass
Now my bed’s got a cold side
They started to run
You changed the pace,
I can’t keep up
Now I’ve seen your list
And my name isn’t on it
So many times, I was pulled to write down phrases like ‘my love is so simple’ and ‘my love feels so right,’ but I never did. That love song was never written, and I never captured that feeling.
* * *
There’s a weight to Kindelan’s voice that can’t be taught – a lived-in ache that clings to every note she sings. On “Wish I Wrote a Love Song,” that ache becomes a vessel for memory, for mourning, and for everything left unsaid. The song opens in soft reverie, with fingerpicked guitar and warm, pillowy harmonies setting the scene: “Lucid, easy / When the world fell in line with our feelings…” she recalls, with a wistfulness that suggests she’s already letting go. The production is sparse yet saturated – a soulful simmer that slowly builds toward heartbreak.
Kindelan’s storytelling is cinematic in its intimacy. She doesn’t just describe the relationship’s unraveling; she shows us the shifting texture of time – the cold side of the bed, the silence in a once-shared space, the absence of her name on a list that used to be hers. “They started to run / You changed the pace, I can’t keep up / Now I’ve seen your list / And my name isn’t on it,” she laments, with a quiet devastation that cuts deeper for its restraint.
The chorus – repeated like a mantra, or maybe a regret – lingers long after the last note fades: “I wish I wrote a love song / Last November…” In its repetition, the phrase becomes both a confession and a comfort, circling the loss without fully releasing it. And perhaps that’s the point: To hold the ache, not fix it. To remember, even if it hurts.
I wish I wrote a love song
Last November
Wish that I’d written it down so
I’d remember
Having a touch you craved
But now’s estranged and
I wish I wrote a love song
When you loved her
We don’t always realize what we’re losing until it’s already gone.
“Wish I Wrote a Love Song” resonates so deeply because it captures a feeling so many know, but few articulate: The regret of not honoring love while it was still alive – of watching it slip through your fingers, and wishing you’d marked the moment before it faded. In sharing her own unspoken truths, Kindelan offers the rest of us a space to sit with ours. This song isn’t just a personal reckoning; it’s a mirror – for anyone who’s loved, lost, and found themselves wondering what might have been. Let this song haunt you a little. Let it hold you in its quiet, burning light.
Stream “Wish I Wrote a Love Song” exclusively on Atwood Magazine, and listen to Kindelan’s After Before double single upon its release July 3rd!
Haa yaa
Almost wrote it down
Haa yaa
I’m left wondering now
Haa yaa
Almost wrote it down
Haa yaa
I’m left wondering
Now, I wish I wrote a love song
I wish I wrote a love song
I wish I wrote our love song
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:: stream/purchase After Before here ::
:: connect with Kindelan here ::
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“Wish I Wrote a Love Song” – Kindelan
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© Monika Levčenkovaitė
© Monika Levčenkovaitė:: Stream Kindelan ::
