There’s something quietly bold about how “Bridgerton” star, Simone Ashley, chose to announce her musical pivot: no grand rebrand, no dramatic reinvention. An instagram post “so excited, and so proud to officially share that next year I will be releasing music!” and the promo is just a few captions “patience and communication… here we go on April 10th.” A soft launch into what feels like a very personal side quest. According to the actress (now musician) the body of work is close to her heart and the culmination of three years of work with some incredible collaborators.

For most of us, Ashley’s voice isn’t entirely new. There was a brief, almost theatrical glimpse on “The Night Before Christmas in Wonderland” where she leaned into broadway-lite sensibility alongside Emilia Clarke. But this– a full EP, a body of work– is something else entirely. Especially when early whispers suggested everything from Whitney Houston impressions to indie soul leanings. It raises a fair question: what does Simone Ashley sound like when she’s not playing a role?

Timing-wise, it almost feels implausible. Since breaking through as Kate Sharma, in “Bridgerton”, Ashley has had multiple projects. She’s stepping into the fashion heavy chaos of “The Devil Wears Prada 2” alongside Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway, while also joining a glossy ensemble in “Peaked” with Dua Lipa. Somewhere in between all of that she found the time to make a record. Not just record but write.

There’s a clue, though, in the orbit she’s placing herself in. The algorithmic breadcrumb trail of “Simone Ashley Radio” on Spotify, leans into a warm, introspective soul– think Olivia Dean’s conversational ease, the hazy R&B textures of Jenevieve, and even a touch of Sade in its restraint. Titles like “Tragic Romantic,” and “Sign Your Name” suggest a certain softness; diaristic, maybe a little self-mythologising. The Kind of Music that lives in late afternoons rather than big, declarative moments.

Working with Frazer T Smith certainly helps frame expectations. His track record leans polished but emotionally legible, pop that wants to feel something. And Ashley seems to meet him halfway, talking openly about writing from heartbreak and watching those emotions shift into something lighter, more nostalgic. Even her fixation on keys, B-flat major, F major, A-flat major, speaks to a deliberate emotional pallet: warm, melancholic, unresolved. 

“Songs I Wrote in New York” lands, fittingly, like a mood before it lands as a statement. It’s cohesive to a fault. The opener, “Sublime”, does a convincing job of sketching the sun-drenched, slightly cinematic world she’s aiming for. The kind of New York that exists more in memory than reality. “Tragic Romantic” follows in the same vein: pleasant, easy, undeniably listenable. 

But that’s also where the tension sits.

Because while Ashley sounds good– her tone is controlled, her delivery soft but assured–  the songs blur. They melt into each other in a  way that feels intentionally, almost like she’s chasing that languid, endless summer feeling. You could draw parallels to the more subdued corners of Norah Jones, or even the lounge-adjacent calm of Laufey, but without the sharp melodic anchors that make those artists linger. At times, it edges into ambience. Beautiful but fleeting. 

And maybe that’s the point– or maybe it’s the growing pains of a first project.

Ashley has described the EP as soul pop, but it occasionally feels like it’s still deciding what that means for her specifically. There are hints of jazz phrasing, touches of R&B, flashes of singer-songwriter intimacy… but not yet defining through-line that feels unmistakably hers. It’s less a fully formed identity and more a collage of influences she hasn’t quite distilled.

Still, there’s something promising in that space. This EP reads like a snapshot: a moment of transition rather than arrival. A proof of capability, not yet a declaration of artistry. 

Because the truth is: Simone Ashley isn’t lacking in presence. On screen, she’s magnetic. In fashion, she’s precise, controlled, instantly recognisable. That same je ne sais quoi hasn’t fully translated into the music yet– but you can hear glimpses of it, buried in the tone, in the restraint, in the choices she’s making.

So yes, she’s good. Comfortably, undeniably good. 

But it feels like we’re waiting for her to be spectacular.

And with a full-length album already hinted at, there’s a sense that “Songs I Wrote in New York” might be a grower– not just for listeners but for Ashley herself. The foundations are there. The taste level is there. What’s missing is the risk, the edge, the thing that makes you stop mid-scroll and ask: wait, who’s this?!

She’s proven she can get there in every other lane. Music just might take a little longer.