Almost as soon as Stella Chronopoulou began writing Adagio, her fifth album as Σtella, she knew the time had finally come to sing in Greek, her native tongue. It would be a first. She started the record almost by accident in 2019, during an 11-hour boat ride to the island of Anafi. Σtella had recently gone through a patch of personal turmoil and needed a break from home. On the ferry, she pulled out her cell phone as the boat clipped through the Mediterranean and began with a simple melody, steadily piecing together a rough instrumental. As psychedelic keyboards twinkled and swayed above staccato drums, the track suggested some deep exhalation, as if Σtella were letting go of long-unnecessary baggage. For a spell, she set the instrumental aside. She understood the words would eventually need to be in Greek, given how and where she’d written it, the mood of the moment. But she wasn’t ready yet, or in a rush. Σtella, after all, grew up in a slow place. Truth be told, she wasn’t very far away from the hubbub of Athens, Greece, living just above the historic city in a relatively rural suburb.

When her father bought land there several decades ago, his friends joked wolves may eat him. For Σtella, though, it was an idyll: The sounds of passing goats woke her most mornings. She and her friends played unfettered in empty streets, not worried about cars or permission. At night, doors remained unlocked. The living felt easy. But during the last decade, life has steadily become busier for Σtella, who now lives near downtown Athens. She has become one of modern Greece’s most popular musical exports, with five sophisticated and playful pop albums rendered with international élan. After releasing her Sub Pop debut, Up and Away, in 2022, she soon catapulted beyond three million monthly Spotify listeners. That success was a blessing, of course, but Σtella still sometimes found herself pining for the slower pace of her youth. That longing is the thread that loosely binds together her fifth album, the entrancing Adagio.

Borrowing its name, of course, from the term for music that’s meant to be played slowly, Adagio is a pop record that feels like a very warm blanket, its nylon-string guitars and featherlight percussion swaddling its listeners for three minutes at a time. Written and recorded over the span of five years, with a consortium of international collaborators including !!!’s Rafael Cohen and British songwriter Gabriel Stebbing, Adagio is a 27-minute meditation on love and desire, rest and time. Though the bulk of it is indeed sung in English, as all her records have been, Σtella also delivers her first two songs in Greek here—“Omorfo Mou,” the one that began on the boat, and a cover of a 1969 cult classic of the Greek New Wave, Litsa Sakellariou’s “Ta Vimata.” It is a sign of the self-assurance that radiates throughout these tender and smitten little tunes.