Featured Tune: "Caroline" from Franklin Gotham

reviews

 A Ghost Named Caroline

Franklin Gotham’s latest single, Caroline, slips into your ears like a memory you didn’t know you still carried. From the very first note, there’s something quietly arresting about it—like the feeling you get when flipping through old photographs and suddenly pausing on one face you haven’t seen in years.

This isn’t just a love song. It’s a ghost story. Caroline, whoever she is, lingers in the cracks between lyrics, haunting the melody with a soft ache that never turns into a full wail. Gotham doesn’t go for big, emotional breakdowns—instead, he leans into restraint, giving us a track that shimmers with vulnerability and self-awareness. The production is warm and dreamlike, with tight indie-pop sensibilities and melodies that float like breath on cold glass.

What makes Caroline special is how it captures that very specific heartbreak: not the dramatic kind, but the quiet unraveling that happens when love slips through your fingers and you’re left tracing outlines of what used to be. It’s wistful without being whiny, nostalgic but never stuck in the past.

Gotham’s voice feels like someone trying to speak clearly through a fog of emotion, and that honesty hits hard. Caroline might be a person, a feeling, or a chapter long closed—but in this song, she’s alive again for three beautiful, aching minutes. And we feel it.