Orkid - ‘Where Flowers Grow’ | SIngle Review

August 27, 2024 Kirsten Moreton

August 27 | Written by Danny Paylor

ORKID’s effervescent ode to death is just over three minutes of good ol’-fashioned alt-pop pining. Both cutting-edge-current and also reminiscent of the dirty pop-synth-disco days of 2009 indie sleaze. It’s not hard to imagine Kate Moss smoking a cigarette out a Paris window to its charmingly laid-back beat.

But the sweetness of the instrumentation and melody is tempered by darker themes of death and grief. Lyrically, this is a subtle-yet-disarming exploration of what exactly you’re supposed to do when a part of you dies alongside someone you love. How you’re supposed to memorialise as you move on. Which parts of yourself to close off and which to let soar.

See, this is modern indie pop that makes you think as well as move. To go deeper within yourself as you become part of something outside yourself, something bigger, through the infectiousness of its neon-pulsing soundscapes.

‘Where Flowers Grow’ is a disco-dirge of wistful melancholia. The second verse’s lead is taken up by co-writer LEW, whose soulful, yearning vocal perfectly balances the hypnotic, almost-disaffected, Bret Easton Ellis-esque narcotic drawl of ORKID’s opening verse. Both crescendo together into fluttering, interweaving co-mingles of melody which resolve the track in neat triumph.

ORKID’s quintessentially-Swedish pop sensibilities are clear as day in this sweet, undulating, hook-laden head-nodder. The track ebbs and flows in masterful dynamics, navigating verses, pre-choruses and big sing-a-long moments with a seamlessly deft touch. The lilting waves of the guitars and synths – anchored by the honest poignancy of the bass – rise and fall in your stomach, counterbalanced by the rich texture of the vocals. The relentless swaying between the dejected and the elated gives a taste of Robyn at the peak of her pop powers, which is no mean feat given her own command of the intricacies of songwriting.

Not many artists are given the innate ability to know when to pull the heartstrings, when to give slack, when to lean in, and when to let go. But ORKID, in this near-perfect pop opus, has shown this exact ability in abundance and readers would do well to look out for more of her.