At just 17 years old, Chayne delivers a shockingly mature and cinematic alt-pop statement with It’s Gone, He’s Gone, a track that blends brooding atmospheres with flashes of indie glam theatrics. The young artist’s bicultural upbringing (split between England and Southern France) bleeds into her music in fascinating ways, creating a sound that feels both intimately personal and expansively cinematic. Dark, reverb-drenched production provides the foundation, but it’s Chayne’s alternately fragile and fierce voice that commands attention. Her phrasing carries a wisdom beyond her years, twisting each line with a mix of melancholy and defiance.
The song’s emotional weight is amplified by its dynamic structure, which ebbs and flows like a stormy sea. One moment, sparse piano or jagged guitar cuts through the mix; the next, the arrangement swells into something grand and almost orchestral. There is a rawness to the recording from Chayne’s DIY home-studio process that only enhances the track’s urgency. Comparisons to early Florence + The Machine or a gloomier Olivia Rodrigo feel inevitable, but Chayne’s perspective is distinctly her own. It’s Gone, He’s Goneis more than just a breakup song, it is a coming-of-age manifesto, proof that alt-pop’s next great voice might still be sitting in a classroom somewhere in France.
