Flyte - Flyte

With their self-titled new album, Flyte have delivered a love letter. An intimate world of adoration and the rush of falling, ‘Flyte’ is written with crystalline vocals and stunningly intricate guitars. Infatuation is laced in each word. Their last album, ‘This Is Really Going To Hurt’, was cut open – insurmountable heartache that was shatteringly clear in each track. Now, they remain raw and open, but for entirely different reasons. ‘Flyte’ comes after a healing process, and sees the band return lighter, fresher, dizzy on the rush of a love they perhaps didn’t imagine would come again.

It's the soundtrack to your laziest Sunday morning – coffee and rain hammering against the window, burrowing in further and bunkering down with everything that brings you comfort. The strings of ‘Press Play’, the earnestness of ‘Even On Bad Days’, everything in between; they are all glistening with promises of hope and possibility. There’s a bare-faced honesty that feels difficult at times, almost too intimate to vocalise. Yet, with every twinkling guitar tone and heart-softening piano, those evergreen, incontrollable feelings become easier to release.

‘Speech Bubble’ invites someone to give them the worst of them, a gorgeous example of the new level of vulnerability to be found on this album. It’s a listen that leaves you soaring throughout, spurred by the lightness in the band and the giddy excitement that runs underneath it all. Where their last album was a deep, messy cut, ‘Flyte’ is the stitched-up, healed scar. Those past experiences left their mark, but the vivacity of that hurt has faded; things have moved onto brighter pastures, that they navigate with equal amounts of hesitancy and willingness to fall headfirst. In chronicling that, Flyte memorialise this love with each lilting line and breezily strummed guitar. ‘Flyte’ is its gorgeous ode.