Maddie Regent didn’t set out to make a coming-of-age album. It just happened that way. One song bled into the next, and what started as a string of emotionally direct recordings with her partner Cade Hoppe became On the Phone with My Mom, a shimmering, deeply personal debut that plays like a series of midnight voicemails to no one and everyone at once.

The title came early, pulled from a lyric in the album’s opening track.

“It stuck out to me because when thinking about my life growing up, that is definitely a common thread,” Regent said. “I was always anxious and always on the phone with my mom (even now honestly) trying to figure it all out. I’m so lucky to have this relationship. I thought it described the feeling of growing up and holding on to childhood in a way.”

That balance—between holding on and growing up—echoes throughout the record. The tracks are earnest without being naive, clever without undercutting their sincerity. Across just under 30 minutes, Regent lets listeners into a world that’s fragile but full of bite.

“These songs really are so vulnerable,” she said, “and I wanted them to feel like they each could have been phone calls.”

Regent describes the album as a meditation on the paradox of femininity. There’s longing, liberation, softness, anger. Nothing is polished to perfection, and that’s the point.

“There’s always an element of nostalgia in everything I do,” she said. “I wanted to really embrace the messy conflicting feelings of wanting to have it all figured out but also not wanting to let go of girlhood, or rather, the space to make mistakes.”

That sense of emotional whiplash is most present in “Fountain of youth/man is a knife,” a track that shapeshifts from a tender vent into a pulsing dance outro.

“The first half resulted from me venting about not wanting to grow up and face the reality of what society says I should be doing at my age,” Regent explained. “We ended up shelving the song for a while, and when we came back to it, the outro just happened to develop into this dance-y rave song. It made so much sense though. I love going through the whiplash of emotions.”

That freedom to shapeshift musically and emotionally is partly rooted in the intimacy of her collaboration with Hoppe, who co-produced the album.

“It’s so invaluable to be able to write songs with someone who knows me so well and can create a safe space for me to share my stories,” Regent said. “Cade really pushes me to write about the things I needed to write about but have always been scared to.”

The result is a record filled with specificity. “Turtleneck” references that moment of post-breakup dressing where you throw on something armor-like but a little ridiculous. “The Wolf” claws at the contradictions of desire. These aren’t diary entries disguised as pop songs. They’re more like film stills—color-saturated, chaotic and precise.

Asked whether she writes for herself or with an audience in mind, Regent doesn’t hesitate.

“I have to admit, On the Phone with My Mom was a pretty self-indulgent record,” she said. “I wrote it with the intention of creating music I would personally want to hear. But I also wrote songs that spoke to things I needed to hear when I was younger.”

She acknowledged that even the most specific lyrics can hit a nerve with others.

“I knew those feelings weren’t unique to me. Even when the lyrics got really specific, I trusted that others could still see themselves in the music. It’s personal, but not so personal that it becomes unrelatable—if that makes sense.”

Regent cites early influences like Nelly Furtado, Avril Lavigne and Lana Del Rey—not just for their music, but for the way they gave permission to be weird, earnest and unpolished.

“They’re all artists who aren’t afraid to sound different or to say things that could be construed as cringey or earnest,” she said. “I strongly believe that Lana Del Rey could sing ‘Baby Shark’ and I would be like, ‘you know what? I’m feeling this!’”

It’s not just a musical lineage. It’s a philosophy.

“They’ve all inspired me to push myself to be more uncomfortable and to not hide myself, which is a hard thing to do,” she said.

Sonically, Regent drew from a mix of influences without tying herself to one style. There’s a glint of 2000s pop here, a wash of synth there. Some songs sound like a lucid dream. Others feel like they were written in the back of an Uber, mid-breakdown.

“I didn’t have any one album or song that I referenced,” she said. “But I do think it’s a combination of my general taste. I think I definitely drew from Lana Del Rey’s clever lyricism and daring stories, but then sonically, I found myself influenced by the cinematic sounds of The 1975 and MUNA.”

Regent began writing songs at 12 to cope with anxiety. The process, she said, has shifted over time.

“Now, I think I use songwriting less as a way to process my anxiety and more as a way of celebrating my anxiety,” she said. “Ultimately, I hope my music is able to bring comfort to people and help them feel less alone.”

That goal, she said, requires a different kind of honesty.

“I want my songs to provide a bit of an escape, so I think I approach it more as an exercise in storytelling as opposed to just a way to make myself feel better.”

The record was released independently, without a label or team behind it. Regent is clear-eyed about what that takes.

“I’m so proud that I finished and released this record entirely independently,” she said. “It really is tough to stay motivated but I do hope that I’m able to inspire people to just make their art and share it with the world. I promise that someone out there needs it.”

For those unsure where to start, Regent has a recommendation.

“Right now I’d say listen to ‘Turtleneck’ because there’s a dirty joke in there,” she said, laughing. “It’s a fun one that I think will make you want to listen to even more of the album.”

On the Phone with My Mom is not a major label debut. It doesn’t pretend to be. It’s smaller than that. More personal. More haunted. More playful. More real.

It sounds like what it feels like to be 23 and honest, trying not to outgrow yourself too fast.

And if you need someone to talk to, the line’s still open.