Emmy award-winning indie duo The Bergamot’s new record Mayflies is one of those albums that make you excited for everything that comes from the artist afterward, or in other words, it makes you a loyal fan. In that sense, listening to it right now feels like a special privilege, like witnessing history in the making, the meteoric rise to stardom of talented musicians who have all the makings of near-future idols, including being discovered by Matt Wiggins, who’s been onto something in the past with artists like U2 and Adele.
The Bergamot’s sound is very distinctive, yet something about it instantly conjures up Still Corners – perhaps it’s the sense of airiness that permeates every element of every song, from the beautiful guitar melodies that reverberate gently in the distance and keep on unfolding without end, to the serene vocal harmonies that entwine and spiral up like angelic choirs, to the array of musical layers which envelop you into what feels like a bottomless well of melodies and emotions.
What’s very interesting about Mayflies is that no two songs are too alike, yet the overarching feel to the record is not just palpable, but haunting – a complex mix of dreaminess, wonder, and melancholy, all wrapped around together in different songs, with each one being its own unique formulation of these emotions and states. In a way, the album is reminiscent of a special period of someone’s life, with every song being a different day, guided by a different thought or emotion while other subtler ones hover around in the mind or subconscious, waiting for their chance to surface and materialize into something that leaves a mark. The duo certainly made that period count.
Mayflies is an album that has put The Bergamot on the map, and had they already been more famous, a record like that could have been showered with superlatives by the critics, who still are anything but indifferent as it is, perhaps even spellbound by the record’s enchanting sound.