I’ve Tried Everything But Therapy Part 2 Solid Tangerine

Listen, I’ve been spinning vinyl since before most streaming subscribers were born, and when Teddy Swims’ tangerine-colored wax landed on my doorstep, I nearly mistook it for another generic soul-pop crossover cash grab. Boy, was I wrong.

“I’ve Tried Everything But Therapy (Part 2)” isn’t just a sequel—it’s the payoff Warner Records has been building toward since this bearded Atlanta belter exploded onto the scene. If Part 1 was the question (and those 100 million streams of “Lose Control” suggest it was a damn good one), this follow-up delivers answers with the kind of vocal gymnastics that would make Otis Redding nod in approval.

The solid tangerine pressing isn’t just pretty—it sounds magnificent, with Warner’s engineers giving Swims’ voice room to breathe across the grooves. At 12.32 × 12.22 inches and weighing a substantial 7.68 ounces, this isn’t some flimsy, warped-on-arrival disappointment. The bass response alone justifies the analog format, especially on tracks where Swims digs into his lower register.

What separates Swims from the endless parade of soulful white boys with beards is his absolute refusal to play it safe. The man who once described himself as “just a regular dude with an irregular voice” continues his genre-hopping adventures here, except now there’s a confidence that wasn’t fully formed in his earlier work. The R&B cuts hit harder, the pop moments soar higher, and when he decides to get raw, you’ll find yourself checking if your stylus is damaged—nope, that is just emotional damage you’re hearing.

For collectors, this tangerine variant will likely appreciate faster than your 401k. Limited pressings of debut albums from artists in their breakout phase tend to become hot commodities, especially when the artist is selling out tours globally as Swims is currently doing.

Is therapy better than this record? Possibly. But at a fraction of the hourly rate and with considerably more soul, Teddy Swims’ sophomore effort might just be the catharsis your turntable prescribed. Drop the needle, pour something strong, and let Atlanta’s unlikeliest soul sensation remind you why you invested in a proper sound system in the first place.

Teddy Swims’ “I’ve Tried Everything But Therapy Part 2” on tangerine vinyl isn’t just another record drop – it is a goddamn revelation from an artist who’s spent 2024 casually demolishing every expectation the music industry foolishly placed upon him.

Look, I’ve watched countless would-be saviors of soul music come and go, most disappearing faster than Keith Richards’ cigarettes at an afterparty. But there’s something wickedly authentic about this bearded giant from Atlanta that makes the hairs on your neck stand at attention. His voice – Christ, that voice – it doesn’t just fill a room; it occupies your consciousness like an emotional squatter refusing eviction notices.

The tangerine vinyl edition feels almost too perfect – warm and vibrant like Swims’ vocal performances, yet with an edge that cuts through the bullshit of modern pop’s clinical precision. This isn’t music made by committee or algorithm; it is the sound of a man exorcising demons through a microphone.

After “Part 1” unleashed “Lose Control” and “The Door” upon unsuspecting listeners worldwide, sending Teddy from relative obscurity to global phenomenon, “Part 2” delivers the emotional knockout punch. The raw confessional nature of these tracks makes you feel like you’ve stumbled across someone’s therapy journal – ironic given the album’s title.

I was backstage at one of his London shows last summer – the sweat-drenched intensity of his performance left the room stunned into reverent silence before erupting into chaos. Watching this tattooed gentle giant transform from humble banter to soul-shattering vocal runs reminded me of seeing Otis Redding footage – that same dangerous combination of vulnerability and power.

The record belongs in the collections of those who understand that genres are prison cells for creativity. Swims refuses categorization, blending R&B’s emotional intelligence with soul’s raw power and pop’s accessibility. If you’ve ever found yourself at 2 AM, drink in hand, contemplating the wreckage of relationships past, this album speaks your language fluently.

There’s a story circulating about the recording of the album’s centerpiece track – apparently Teddy delivered such an emotionally devastating vocal take that the session musicians couldn’t continue for nearly an hour afterward, the studio equivalent of a collective emotional breakdown. The producer later admitted they kept the first take, imperfections and all, because “some pain shouldn’t be polished.”

This tangerine vinyl isn’t just recommended – it’s fucking essential. While the digital streams will rack up billions, there’s something almost sacred about experiencing this level of emotional nakedness through the warm crackle of vinyl. The physical format demands presence, attention – exactly what these songs deserve.

Like the best soul records of the 70s, this isn’t background music. It’s a conversation with your darkest thoughts set to melody, delivered by a voice that somehow makes suffering sound beautiful. In response to a rising demand for where authenticity is marketed and sold like designer counterfeits, Teddy Swims is the genuine article – a reminder that sometimes the most powerful art comes from simply opening a vein and letting it bleed.