T

he unexpected can often reap the most rewards. For Sydney Minsky-Sargeant, a solo album wasn't always on the cards. But what began as a desire to revisit one song from his back catalogue purely for himself soon unfolded into something far more expansive. 'Lunga' marks a distinct shift from his work with Working Men's Club – tender, intimate, and contemplative, it reveals a new dimension to the frontman that's been hidden in plain sight.

Over cups of tea in his hometown of Todmorden, Syd reflects on how the album took shape in loose, spontaneous bursts, snatched between other projects. Far removed from the high-energy sonics many associate with him, 'Lunga' became a vessel for calm – a quieter way to process and preserve the moments that led him here.

"There's nothing to really hide behind when there's just predominantly you, an acoustic guitar and whatever else there may be," he explains. "There's a rawer bed that your vocal is on top of, rather than lots of bombastic electronic stuff and overly saturated things going on everywhere all the time. Despite the themes of the Working Men's Club records feeling very personal to me, I went a step further with being more open. It was less vague, not as embellished, less nuanced."

Recorded in Leeds at The Nave Studios with long-time collaborator and friend Alex Greaves, the tone of the album was shaped by both the process and the space itself. Built around openness – literally and figuratively – the sound of 'Lunga' became something Syd hadn't fully explored before.

"The whole thing felt more melodic. The palette of sounds we were going to use was melodic instruments, rather than percussive and rhythm-based. The room most of the record was recorded in is a big open church space, and you can hear that throughout the record. That's probably what gives it air. The sessions were so spread out and sporadic, so you'd just use different things based on what was there. The thing that makes it feel like a side-step from Working Men's Club is that there's obviously a lot more acoustic instruments on this. The electronics sit amongst that more loosely and lightly. It wasn't about putting a really fat or ridiculously obnoxious synth on it. It was about picking a sound that felt right for the song. It felt more thoughtful."

Lush layers and delicate strings underpin the album's softness, with Syd's vocals stripped of effects and full of feeling. 'Lunga' is expansive without being overblown, reflective without leaning into self-indulgence. That clarity was made possible through his working relationship with Alex, who, as Syd makes clear, was far more than a producer.

"As a producer, you're working with these quite vulnerable people a lot of the time. You have to be vulnerable as an artist, going into a studio, because you're trying to put yourself out there. You're investing an element of trust in a producer to help you do that. During the process of making this record, I was very honest and open with Alex, and at times, probably quite distraught and upset and all over the place as a person. He was definitely more than just a co-producer – he was a very good and kind friend and person. When I think of this album, I think of a lot of different things, but the main one is Alex and the journey we went on together."

That safety net allowed Syd to open up in new ways, pushing past hesitation and capturing something more honest than he'd ever allowed himself to put on record.

"I'm glad I did, because it documented where I was, and what was going on then. There was stuff I would've potentially held back in another world, but I didn't. I think that's opened a door for me to be even more open about my own life experiences and be slightly more introspective within my songwriting."

There's purpose in that openness – a desire to build something listeners can see themselves in. Music has always been a source of refuge for Syd, and now he's trying to offer that same sense of safety in return.

"The reason I'm trying to be more open and honest with how I feel and the way in which I see the world is to feel closer to other people. To try and cross the divide and create a little bit of connection. I've been obsessed with music since I can remember, and it's because, in music, I can articulate – and other people can articulate – things that I feel but can't necessarily express in words. It would be nice to make other people feel that way."

Tracks like 'Hazel Eyes' and 'For Your Hand' encapsulate that connection – warm, weightless, deeply personal but easy to sink into. Lyrically, 'Lunga' loops back on itself, drawing meaning from repetition and reflection. The theme of starting again reappears throughout, rooted in Syd's own teenage struggles with bullying and isolation.

"The returning thing that could keep me going was that I can start again, and learn from what's happened. It's looking back through an unresentful lens – more of a 'this is what happened, these are the characters that have appeared and the relationships I've had'. It was the acceptance of the fact that I'm back at square one, but it's not square one. It's the start of something new."

That clarity – that 'start of something new' – is most apparent on 'New Day', the album's closing track. It feels like light breaking through clouds.

"It's supposed to be a hopeful end to the record, but it's also supposed to be truthful to the fact that in my eyes, at the point of finishing that record, I don't think I'd worked everything out. It's the end of one chapter and the start of another. I'm not trying to burn all the things that have happened, and it's not a fuck you to anyone. It's more that I acknowledge that I'm not a perfect human, and in my eyes, I don't think other people have necessarily been perfect. But perfection isn't a realistic goal in life. Acceptance and honesty are more important." ■

Taken from the October 2025 issue of Dork. Sydney Minsky-Sargeant's album 'Lunga' is out now.