Music is a conduit for the weightiest of messages and for the most delicate dance of sentiment, and The Furious Seasons have mastered both realms. On their fifth album as an acoustic trio, they pivot toward the latter—the realm of hope, optimism, love, and longing. Every Morning At Five emerges as a collection of songs that brim with these emotions. And frankly, the world could use a hefty dose of just that.

After the previous album’s remote recording thanks to the pandemic, with each member contributing from distant corners (thank the stars for technological wizardry), this new offering sees them reconvening in a sacred sonic circle, working out and recording these deft and delicious songs as a cohesive band once more.

The title track, as the opener, sets the stage perfectly—an exquisite blend of gentle beats, lilting piano, and guitars used sparingly, both to lay down rhythmic foundations and unleash short, sharp, and shockingly good solos. All of this is crowned by heartfelt vocals that serenade and seduce.

And thus unfolds almost a dozen more tunes, each a gem in its own right. “Up The Coast” embodies the kind of romantic balladry Van Morrison would have given his right arm for in his heyday—a valid reference point for much of The Furious Seasons’ craft. “Abstract Art” is a lesson in understated lyrical acumen, with this minimal music serving as the perfect canvas for the picture being painted (pun intended). “Do It All Again” takes a more upbeat turn, leaving ample space for the Latin percussion and punctuating basslines to shine.

Every Morning At Five is, at its core, a profoundly romantic album. Yet, it’s miles away from the shallow, chart-bound teenage fluff, those insipid pop creations that rhyme “moon” with “June” and which never really get far below the surface of real life, real love. No, these are songs about genuine love, authentic emotions, and true relationships, penned by someone who comprehends the intricate workings of the world – love, loss, longing and life, warts and all.

Gorgeous, relatable, and unabashedly real—what more could want?

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