2025 · From the album The Art of Loving
Baby Steps
by Olivia Dean
The reading
A breakup song about relearning how to be alone, told as the small, deliberate motions of someone teaching themselves to walk again
02 · Interpretation
Olivia Dean's 'Baby Steps': Learning to Be Your Own Safe Hands
Most breakup songs reach for the dramatic gesture: the slammed door, the burned letter, the night out that turns into a bender. Olivia Dean's 'Baby Steps,' released in September 2025 as part of 'The Art of Loving,' does the opposite. It's a song about the unglamorous middle of moving on, the part where you're not heartbroken enough to cry and not healed enough to feel free, just walking around your own apartment trying to remember how to do it by yourself.
The opening image sets the tone with unusual precision. A rear-view mirror, Dean reminds us, makes things look closer than they are; the ex she's describing feels nearby but is, in truth, worlds away. It's a small piece of optical honesty that reframes the rest of the song. What follows isn't denial or longing so much as a clear-eyed inventory of what's actually gone.
The second verse is where the specifics land. She used to be the one charging at ten percent while a partner plugged her straight back in. Now there's no one to text when a plane lands, no one to call when it's taking off. Dean picks the two most mundane moments of modern intimacy, the bookends of a flight, and lets their absence stand in for everything bigger. The metaphor of the dying phone is gentle and exact: she wasn't dependent in some grand romantic sense, she just had a reliable source of power, and now she doesn't.
The chorus answers that loss with a piece of choreography rather than a declaration. "Right, left," she counts off, like a parent teaching a toddler. "I'll be my own pair of safe hands." The image of becoming the adult who catches you is sharp; it acknowledges that being held was the thing she'll miss, and that the job is now hers. "It's not the end, it's the making of" reads less like a slogan than something she's repeating to convince herself, which is exactly how those phrases tend to work in real life.
The second verse domesticates the project. Friday nights out used to end with someone else home and the lights on; now she'll be the one flipping the switch when she walks in. The line about roses on the shelf, and the resolve that "this house gon' love itself," is the song's small thesis. Self-care here isn't a spa day or a manifesto, it's buying yourself flowers because no one else will, and deciding that the building you live inside counts as worth tending to.
The bridge offers the closest thing to a mantra: she won't fall back, and if she falls forward, at least she has that. It's a modest claim, and the modesty is the point. Forward motion, even clumsy forward motion, is the only metric she'll allow herself.
Musically, the title's babbled "ba ba ba" doubles as both a baby's first sounds and a hook engineered for memory. Dean has spent her short career writing songs that sound like Sunday morning, with debts to British soul and the kind of jazz-inflected pop that Amy Winehouse made viable for a generation of UK singers who came after her. 'Baby Steps' fits that lane while pulling toward something lighter and more buoyant; the production seems to want you nodding before you've noticed what the song is actually about.
'The Art of Loving' takes its title from Erich Fromm's 1956 book, which argues that love is a practice rather than a feeling that happens to you. 'Baby Steps' is arguably the album's clearest demonstration of that thesis applied inward. The work of loving yourself, in this telling, is not affirmation but admin: turning on the lights, buying the roses, putting one foot in front of the other.
It's a song that may endure precisely because it refuses the big swing. Most listeners will recognise the specific weather it describes, the week after the week after, when nothing is on fire but nothing is fixed either. Dean has written a small, useful piece of music for that stretch.
Themes catalogued
03 · Lyrics
"Baby Steps"
It's funny in the rear view
You're closer than you are
In truth we're worlds apart
I'm used to being near you
When I'm down at ten percent
And you'd plug me straight back in
Now there's no-one to text when the plane lands
Or to call when it's taking off
Right, left
Baby steps
I'll be my own pair of safe hands
It's not the end, it's the making of
Right, left
For now I'm taking
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Ba ba ba, baby steps
It's learning how to balance
If I'm out on Friday night
It'll be me turning on the lights
When I come home
But I'll manage
There'll be roses on the shelf
'Cause this house gon' love itself
Yeah, this house gon' love itself
I'm taking
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Ba ba ba, baby steps
I won't fall back
If I fall forwards
At least I have that
At least I have that
I'm taking
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Ba ba ba, baby steps (Ba ba ba, baby steps)
Ba ba ba, baby steps (Ba ba ba, baby)
Ba ba ba, baby steps
Lyrics via Google. Copyright belongs to rights holders.
04 · FAQ