ALBUM REVIEW: Party Of One by Jaccpot: How To Dance Away Your Growing Pains
“No, it’s not 2016 anymore, but maybe that’s the whole point. Maybe the gift of growing up is realizing that the party is still raging, just changing shape.”
A viral song can be a strange thing to survive.
For Jackson Simpson, who you may also know as Jaccpot, “Take Me Down to Stewy's” became one of those rare local songs that everybody was chatting about. With unforgettable features from azel and Grey Mizzy, the track had humor, charm, regional pride, and the kind of hook that could sneak up on you in the grocery store days later.
The thing is, a lot of artists have a viral moment like that and spend too much time chasing it, abandoning their artistry in hopes of recreating that viral sound.
Party Of One, Simpson’s brand new EP, leaves the idea behind completely, and instead opts to show us that he understands that the door opened, but now he’s walking through it, and inviting us in with him, showing us a fuller version of his world.
Across seven tracks, Party Of One is bright, danceable, catchy, and full of heart, but the real strength is the way Simpson uses movement as emotional language. These are songs about growing up, losing track of time, missing people, trusting people, being done wrong, keeping problems to yourself, and still finding a reason to dance.
The opener, “2016,” sets the tone with a smooth, pop-R&B groove and a feeling that will hit plenty of listeners in their mid-20s right in the chest:
This is not 2016 anymore.
For people now in their mid 20s, ten years ago, adulthood was still mostly theoretical. Now, the world is expensive, plans are fragile, schedules are impossible, and everyone is trying to figure out who they are while life keeps moving. Simpson does something refreshing here, letting that be a mirror rather than a window of nostalgia that you can’t stop watching in hopes of reliving.
Then he keeps the beat going.
“LMK” follows as one of the EP’s clearest standouts. It is house-coded, garage-kissed, and full of an easy summer swagger. “What’s the 411?” Simpson asks, gliding over a beat that you quite literally cannot sit still to. It’s effortless in the way good dance music should be, because Simpson knows how to make a song feel casual without sounding careless.
On “true,” he shifts into a shinier, almost ‘80s-inspired lane, giving us a sweet love song that never overcomplicates the feeling. “As long as I’m with you, I’ve got a smile on my face,” he sings, and the line sticks because you can hear the smile in his voice; sometimes saying something flat out is much stronger than drowning it in metaphor. Especially when looking at something like love, described a billion ways, but all leading back to the same simple idea.
“Trust” brings in nu-disco and funk-inspired textures, but underneath the bounce is one of the project’s most relatable emotional centers. Late nights, conflicting schedules, missed connections, and the quiet hope that the people who matter will still find their way back. Simpson could have turned that into something heavy, but he chose hope; he chose the understanding that sometimes it is simply trusting and believing that real life will not ruin something good.
Then comes “me problem,” one of the project’s most electric tracks. The beat is quick, jumpy, synthy, and modern, but the chorus carries a shadow. This, to me, is where Simpson’s production instincts shine. The instrumental tells part of the story, letting tension rise before snapping us back into the groove. “I’ve got some problems but I’ll keep ’em to myself,” Simpson sings. There’s a lingering synth note at the end of the chorus that almost feels like the thought you are trying not to have, capturing that very specific feeling of dancing while something still lingers in the back of your mind.
Then we shift a bit.
“Need Me Back” opens with Simpson saying, “It’s not a good song, it’s just a love song,” before correcting himself and laughing it off. “I said that wrong… It’s not a good song, it’s… Whatever.” It’s such a small moment, but it gives the track personality before it even fully begins, and it’s a perfect fakeout because the track is anything but light.
It’s the most R&B-heavy track on the project, with touches of trap and pop folded into a smooth, confident beat. The lyrics hit with the energy of someone who has been done wrong, knows they are better off, and is allowing themselves just the right amount of flex in hindsight.
The EP closes with “Dance Song,” a Grey Mizzy collaboration that delivers exactly what its title promises. House, release, friendship, motion. By then, the message is clear. Grab somebody you love, whether that be yourself or someone else, and dance through it, dance with it, dance until the feeling changes shape. “Dance until you can’t.”
That’s when everything really started to click for me.
Every track on this EP moves in some way. Sometimes it’s a house groove, sometimes it’s R&B bounce, sometimes it’s disco shimmer, sometimes it’s pure pop release, and all of it is intentional.
This is an EP about standing in early adulthood with no guidebook, trying to figure out who stays, who leaves, what matters, what hurts, what heals, and what you do with yourself when the answer is not immediately clear.
Simpson’s answer is to find the groove anyway.
No, it’s not 2016 anymore, but maybe that’s the whole point. Maybe the gift of growing up is realizing that the party is still raging, just changing shape. Sometimes it’s loud and crowded, sometimes it’s you alone in your room, listening to the rain. Sometimes it’s your friends, your music, your memories, your mistakes, and a beat good enough to carry all of those things.
We’re growing into ourselves, growing into our own parties of one and dancing until we can’t.
Party of One is available on all streaming platforms now.
