Daylight

Joji's collaboration with Diplo arrived as the final single from 'Nectar' ahead of the album's release, built around a rap-inflected instrumental that sits somewhere between late-night introspection and restless forward motion. The production feels deliberately sparse, leaving room for the song's central tension: the narrator no longer wants to fight the daylight, a shift from the helplessness and self-blame that dominates the verses. The lyrics trace the aftermath of a relationship's end, moving between scenes of solitary relief and lingering disorientation. Joji writes himself into empty rooms and sun-dried patios, singing along to the radio just to direct his thoughts at someone. The repeated insistence that he's not lying in bed with a troubled mind reads less like triumph than a kind of willed recovery, the song catching him somewhere between making peace with the past and still feeling the pull of it. What registers is the restraint. There's no grand catharsis, just the quiet acknowledgement that moving on means accepting what daylight offers, even when the night still feels safer.