Nostalgia Without Rose-Colored Glasses: Cumulus Questions Childhood’s Vanishing Simplicity

Seattle duo Cumulus explores the complexities of nostalgia in “Simple,” addressing privilege and generational concerns, while maintaining an intimate musical character.

Behind every nostalgic reverie lurks the question: was it actually better then, or have we simply edited out the complications? Seattle-based duo Cumulus—Alexandra Lockhart and William Cremin—confronts this tension throughout “Simple,” the lead single from their forthcoming fourth album We’ve Got It All (due April 18th via Share It Music).

The track arrives as a musical Polaroid capturing suburban childhood scenes from the analog era—station wagons with wood paneling, trampolines, mood rings, and cul-de-sac adventures. These images establish both temporal and emotional setting without surrendering to the typical saccharine treatment such memories often receive. Instead, Lockhart and Cremin create a more nuanced portrait that acknowledges privilege while still honoring genuine experience.

What elevates “Simple” beyond mere nostalgic indulgence is its self-awareness. When Lockhart confesses “I know simple is relative/I was a little white, middle-class kid,” she acknowledges how socioeconomic factors shaped her perception of childhood ease. This contextual framing transforms what might have been merely wistful into something more substantive—an examination of how safety and innocence are unequally distributed rather than universal birthright.

The arrangement reflects this thematic complexity, with instrumentation that feels simultaneously familiar and fresh. Piano work from Aaron Guest (brought in to help arrange the skeletal compositions) provides emotional coloring that enhances rather than overwhelms the vocals. Lockhart and Cremin’s harmonized questioning of “Will it ever be that simple again?” creates both musical and philosophical resonance, suggesting communal rather than individual concern.

Most affecting is how “Simple” pivots from backward glance to forward consideration. The speculation about whether things will “ever be that simple for our kids” transforms personal reminiscence into parental anxiety, expanding the song’s emotional scope while maintaining its intimate character. This generational concern gives the composition deeper stakes without sacrificing its light-footed melodic approach.

Having evolved from Lockhart’s solo project into a collaborative duo with Cremin (who now serves as co-writer and co-producer), Cumulus demonstrates how artistic growth can enhance rather than dilute original vision. The results have earned praise from outlets ranging from Stereogum to NPR Music’s All Songs Considered—attention that seems likely to expand with this latest offering.

“Simple” stands as perfect introduction to an album reportedly inspired by “childhood friendships, a hello from a neighbor, bookish escapes, winding highways, family connection, and of course, always, music.” By questioning rather than idealizing the past, Cumulus creates something both comforting and challenging—nostalgia without the distortion of rose-colored glasses.

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