Jemerine Chan rebuilds herself in full colour on debut album 'Reset'

There is no single sound for starting again. Sometimes recovery arrives quietly, through a reluctant acceptance that the worst has passed. At other moments, it feels confrontational, euphoric or almost theatrical. And on her debut album 'Reset', Malaysian-born, London-based artist Jemerine Chan embraces that instability, allowing each stage of emotional renewal to speak through a different musical language.

Across nine tracks, the singer-songwriter, producer and multi-instrumentalist traces a loose journey from uncertainty and collapse towards confidence and self-recognition. Alt-pop, hyperpop, house, indie, synth-pop and Broadway-inspired arrangements move in and out of focus, giving the album the sensation of a life being reconstructed in real time.

Opening 55-second piece ‘Wondering’ begins from a place of possibility. Here, it captures the quieter decision to remain open, and to believe that growth might still be available. From there, the record gradually becomes more direct, moving through confrontation, heartbreak and the difficult work of leaving damaging habits behind.

The dark alternative-pop track ‘Bad Tooth’ provides one of the album’s clearest metaphors. Decay becomes something that must be acknowledged and removed, however uncomfortable that process might be. While ‘Like A Pro’ approaches fear with greater aggression, shifting from claustrophobic pursuit into a chorus built around refusing to remain controlled by self-doubt.

Main track ‘Trouble’ sharpens that philosophy into a statement of boundaries. Its focus on recognising red flags and refusing to waste energy on what no longer serves you gives the album one of its most immediate expressions of self-worth.

Elsewhere, ‘Future’ turns outward. Its declaration of strength is framed as a call towards kindness, suggesting that improvement carries a responsibility beyond the self. ‘CWDT’ then allows the album to celebrate its progress before the journey is fully complete, treating small victories as worthy of recognition.

The album closes with ‘Better’, and its central admission provides a fitting conclusion: perfection has not been achieved, but progress has. It's an understated idea, yet one that carries more emotional truth than any triumphant claim of complete reinvention.

In all, 'Reset' succeeds because Jemerine Chan doesn't treat healing as a firm destination. She presents it as an accumulation of choices; such as recognising damage, walking away, allowing joy back in and accepting that becoming whole does not mean becoming flawless.

By the end, she hasn't erased the person who entered the album. She has simply learned how to carry her forward with greater compassion.