an elegant synth-pop meditation on love, individuality, and the everyday art of choosing each other again and again

there’s a beautiful contradiction at the heart of 11 (the art of being a couple). while many records about relationships focus on becoming one, chiara castello and camilla benedini build an album around the opposite idea: that the strongest connections are formed when two complete people choose to walk side by side without losing themselves. it’s a simple and important concept, expressed through the album’s title and recurring symbolism, but one that unfolds wonderfully with surprising depth across eleven songs.

musically, the record lives in a space between european synth-pop and modern electronic melancholy. shimmering arpeggiators, tight rhythms, and elegant production provide the framework, but beneath the polished surfaces is something deeply human. whether you’re into synths or not, there’s something here for a keen music fan – each song feeling like a conversation about intimacy, distance, identity, and renewal.

to fall kicks things off in style, opening the journey with pulsing synths and distant vocals, before kicking into a mid tempo synth banger. it captures the fracturing of the dream of perfect love, easing into something more complex and real. the repeated ‘to fall’ lyric is great, followed by the icy cold synth stabs, and it’s an ideal introduction to a record fascinated by transformation.

the album reaches one of its emotional peaks with scegli me, featuring rachele bastreghi. built around vulnerability rather than certainty, it asks the question that every long-term relationship eventually faces: would you still choose me once the illusion fades? the dual voices give the song remarkable weight, transforming it into a genuine dialogue rather than a simple declaration. best of all it’s got the album’s best groove, with totally irresistible synths.

hip hop in the fog opens things up, and excitingly, we find ourselves in club territory here. trebly vocals, clever, playful synths tell a story of things going back to the beginning, where attraction and uncertainty blur together. a heady blend of desire, jealousy, anticipation, and confusion mix together, skilfully capturing the emotional chaos of wanting someone before truly knowing them.

with a place to call home, the focus slows a little, with things getting even more sultrier, and leaning toward a sense of belonging. there’s something instinctive running through the song, a desire for safety and recognition that feels universal. it’s one of the catchiest choruses on the album, with bags of character, especially in the fun, unique vocal delivery. not safe for work this work guys, and ‘yum, yum, yum’ indeed.

not any more marks a subtle turning point. rather than dramatic liberation, it documents the slower process of reclaiming yourself from old fears. it all feels empowering this one, and i love the 808 stylings in the percussion arrangements. it’s another really, really hooky tune that we love.

”This is a moment of transition. When something that once frightened you no longer holds the same power. It is not a sudden liberation, but a slow process made of breathing and awareness. It is the moment when you begin to tell yourself: “This no longer controls me”

the beautifully enigmatic pony arrives next, with the best intro on this album. bold production choices abound, and it feels a bit like a pause for reflection. inspired by open landscapes and unanswered questions, it sits comfortably in uncertainty. this has to be one my favourites on the album, if only for the ascending vocal lines in the verse. stunning, off-kilter stuff.

this language / questa lingua has the most vibey sparse bassline, and four to floor kick. it kinda turns things turns inward, exploring identity and expression. it kinda sounds like it might go dark, but the chorus reveals a playful surface. but there’s tension here, expressed with the blend of sounds. it’s great fun.

like miley cyrus says injects a burst of momentum. it’s got the vibe of a robyn banger, or maybe the knife, but i’m not a blonde are definitely in their own lane. on this one they talk about love becoming overwhelming and physical, an emotional force that refuses to be contained. it’s definitely most immediate moments, and i hope this one’s a single; it deserves to do really well.

the mood darkens slightly with the island, synth washes abound, with a genuinely beautiful chord sequence, leading to one of the album’s most reflective pieces. twinkly synths and the vocal delivery hint at the less positive side of close relationships; when another person feels impossibly far away. the song opens that up with honesty, and the results are great.

penultimate tune circe gets back into driving synths, with offbeat chords working well against the relaxed vocal. this one’s more mysterious but incredibly intimate too, with themes of desire, fear and self-discovery combining. it creates one of the album’s most fascinating emotional landscapes.

closing track fissa fissa closes this up with a whole lot of conviction, and a hint of aggression in thee vocal. it really is the full stop in this collection of songs, demonstrating just how unique ti’m not a blonde’s approach is. the band talk about exploring the idea of standing firm in one’s identity, direct and unapologetic. a great concept to end on.

in the end, 11 (the art of being a couple) works because it understands that relationships are never static. they evolve, fracture, heal, and reinvent themselves, just as people do. i’m not a blonde capture that reality with elegance and honesty, creating a modern, sophisticated and compelling synth-forward album that feels deeply personal while remaining universally relatable. it’s a brilliant collection of songs that reminds us that love is not about becoming one person, and we’ll be playing it all year long.

thank u for making this i’m not a blonde 💙

instagram