Being in a band on the one hand must be great, the joy of having others to share the journey with. On the other hand, it must be difficult when you have different visions or ideas in your mind’s eye and want to see them through to the end. And so we have Blue Morpho, an album from Radiohead guitarist Ed O’Brien. I’ve loved some of Radiohead’s work, but my journey with them has been intermittent, and I have to admit that apart from Thom, I’d struggle to name another member of the band. Well, that is firmly no longer the case.

The album opens with "Incantations". I originally heard about 20 seconds of this before knowing it was going to be an album I wanted to review. It one of the few tracks to feature what I would consider vocals rather than vocal effects, but as the title suggests, they have a mantra-like quality. However, it’s the music that draws you in. An acoustic guitar forms the foundation, simple, subtle, rhythmic, and relentless. As the track builds, it reaches an almost mystical crescendo before dropping back into something heavier and dirtier, thanks to the bass.

Next up is the title track, "Blue Morpho", starting with birdsong and something more orchestral in tone. There’s a strong dawn-like feeling here, a sense of returning to nature as the day begins. Again, there’s that guiding pulse to the track, which feels natural rather than forced. I have to admit I felt a Nick Drake influence, likely due to the combination of acoustic guitar and strings. The vocals here function more as texture than message, and they never get in the way of the music.

"Sweet Spot" continues that acoustic direction, but the tone is darker, though not in an overtly heavy sense. It feels more fragile, especially with vocals that drift in and out. The track closes with violin, reinforcing that sense of fragility and adding a subtle trace of sadness. It almost feels like an interlude, despite running for over four minutes.

The music takes a 180 turn with "Teachers", which is heavily driven by drum and bass rhythms. It acts as a wake-up call, injecting the album with sudden energy. The track briefly pulls back in the middle before building again, adding a touch of controlled chaos in the guitar work, before tapering off into what sounds like a flute.

Next are two shorter tracks, both around two and a half minutes. “Solfeggio” is simple and atmospheric. “Thin Places” continues in a similar vein, more textural than structured. Both feel like connective tissue, underscoring what came before and setting up the final track. They are beautiful pieces in their own right, but function more as transitions within the album as a whole.

The album closes with “Obrigado”, just under ten minutes long and the longest track here. It opens rhythmically and again features the same vocal style, layered with additional textures that, given the title, suggest a Brazilian or Portuguese influence. I have to admit, when I heard those vocals, and perhaps being of a certain age, I was reminded of the cartoon Mr Rossi. Yes, I know that’s Italian, but that memory association returns every time I hear them. There is a shift at the halfway point into something more laid-back and chilled, a slow burn of bass and vocal effects punctuated by a wailing guitar. This later section is especially strong, at least to my ears. In the final minute, the track gradually dissolves as silence takes over, bringing the album to a close.

This is an album I didn't know I needed and am so grateful to have stumbled across it. It's surely going to grow with me the more I listen to it. Certainly right up there with the best albums so far this year.