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When Are You Leaving?,singer/songwriter/producer Baek Hwong’s second LP as NoSo,findsHwong trading fantasy for reality. Previously, Hwong (they/he) sang about longing for “straighthips” and “simple limbs” in advance of their transition. Their debutStay Proud of Mewas analbum-length daydream about what it would be like to fully embrace their transmasc identity,written mostly under quarantine restrictions. They released that record in 2022 to criticalacclaim, with praise from NPR’s All Songs Considered, Paste, The Guardian, Notion, aperformance at Tiny Desk and much more. But it’s one thing to wistfully yearn for transition, andanother to actually do it.So what happens after? What happens when you get what you've always wanted, and it comeswith a new set of problems? Even if you do everything in your power to feel more comfortable inyour skin, it’s hard to tell who sees you and who doesn’t.When Are You Leaving?tenderly butdirectly explores the internal effects of those relationships with a witty, mature lens. The achingfrom their past work has itself moved into something more thoughtful and measured, showing amore fully-formed, complex Hwong in the process.Originating from Chicago before studying guitar and songwriting at the Thornton School ofMusic, and now based in Los Angeles, NoSo’s music deals with the alienation that comes at theintersection of his different identities. The stage name of NoSo itself comes from a question he’dget growing up in a largely white neighborhood (“North or South Korean?”)While he becameknown in LA for his talent with guitar, he ultimately decided to pursue writing his own deeplypersonal music. This is as personal as anything else he’s made.He clarifies about the album: “While it’s intense in terms of lyrical content at times, it’s stilltriumphant, but in a more grounded and realistic way.” The joy doesn’t come from daydreaming,but from tangible, smaller victories like leaving toxic relationships and painful situations. Thattitle,When Are You Leaving? comes from the mental fortitude required to deal with or exit thosedynamics altogether. The music gives those small successes the scale they deserve. The albumglistens with spacious arrangements accompanied by the occasional saxophone and strings. Asong like “Nara” could have been a 80s new-wave ball; the chorus where Hwong twists thatname into a rhythmic chant is a crowd sing along in waiting.As withStay Proud Of Me,Hwong largely self-produces, increasingly comfortable withexpanding the scope of his music. All the instruments were recorded remotely, but thecumulative effect is far from Hwong’s bedroom pop roots. The album shows Hwong’s diversetaste; “Dad Made Toast!” is an explosive experimental house-influenced track, while the piano-led opener “A Believable Boy” is quietly stunning in the vein of the bestBoxer-era Nationalsongs. On “Sugar”, a co-production with Jack Tatum of indie project Wild Nothing, Hwong’s lushharmonies soar above a smooth disco groove, the negative space leaving room for thefrustrated lyrics to really take root. Two songs later, there’s the genuinely heavy distorted guitarsof “Don’t Hurt Me I’m Trying”, making good on Hwong’s TV on the Radio influence.