MAMI UMAMI Reveals New Single “(Don’t) think I like you”
There is something wonderfully contradictory about MAMI UMAMI’s new single. “(Don’t) think I like you” sounds like a declaration of independence, yet underneath its electronic pulse and confrontational delivery sits a very straightforward feeling: missing someone you love. The Malmö duo take that contradiction and build an entire song around it, creating an unpredictable alt-pop track that moves freely between hip-hop, dance music and electronic experimentation.
Jaquelin Elamiri and Leonard Furby have developed a reputation for blurring boundaries, both musically and on stage, and that instinct is evident throughout the track. The production constantly shifts in energy, combining punchy rhythms with synth-heavy passages and vocal performances that move between directness and theatricality. Nothing feels static, which suits a song about emotions that refuse to behave logically.
The inspiration is remarkably relatable. Both artists had partners leave for work in other cities, creating a situation where happiness for the people they loved existed alongside the sadness of suddenly being apart. That emotional contradiction became the starting point for the song. What begins as genuine sadness gradually turns into anger, bargaining and denial before the bright chorus offers something closer to acceptance.
There is also something clever about the way MAMI UMAMI use humour and exaggeration to process that sadness. The idea behind “I (don’t) think I like you anyway” is clearly less convincing than the speaker wants it to be. The title’s parentheses become a visual representation of that uncertainty, suggesting that the denial is almost as important as the confession. It is a small detail that gives the song a surprising amount of emotional depth.
Following their AFTERwork EP earlier this year, “(Don’t) think I like you” feels like another step forward for a duo who have made unpredictability part of their identity. Their music refuses to separate the dance floor from emotional vulnerability, instead finding a space where both can exist at once. The result is energetic, strange, funny and sincere, proving that sometimes the best way to deal with missing someone is to make something loud enough to dance through it.
