THE FRONT ROW

If Flair’s last year was the sound of a band coming into focus, City Lights feels like the moment the picture sharpens and everything makes sense. This Glasgow quintet have built their reputation on dynamic contrasts, restless energy, big choruses, and a darkness that never quite lets go. With City Lights, they prove they’re just as compelling when they ease off the throttle and let the nocturnal glow wash over their sound.

Born from a late-night session between bassist Johnnie and vocalist Tony, City Lights retains Flair’s knack for hooks while revealing a softer, dreamier core that only hinted itself on previous singles like Run Away. If their debut EP was a declaration that they weren’t afraid to dig into the heavier corners of alt-rock, this new track shows their willingness to explore vulnerability without losing their edge.

The production, courtesy of Mark Morrow at his Edinburgh studio, feels immaculate without being sterile. Layers of swirling guitar reverb envelop Tony’s unmistakable vocal, equal parts raw confession and defiance, while the rhythm section maintains an understated urgency. The track’s opening lines, Breathing slowly in my ear / But you don’t know me, set the tone: this is music that blurs the line between intimacy and obsession.

Lyrically, City Lights finds Flair channeling the thrill of self-destruction. The city becomes both a backdrop and a character, a place that blinds you, tempts you, and ultimately consumes you. Lines like Fuck another drink / ’Cause you’re getting me high capture the tension between dependence and liberation, while the repeated plea of Save me feels less like a request and more like a mantra whispered into the night.

Musically, the track bridges the band’s influences seamlessly. You can hear the melodic finesse of Wunderhorse and The Snuts in the chiming guitars and atmospheric production, but there’s also a gritty urgency that recalls Fontaines D.C. It’s an intoxicating blend, anthemic enough to fill a venue, yet intimate enough to soundtrack a 2am walk home under sodium streetlamps.

The band have spoken about how Glasgow itself inspired the song, and it’s easy to hear the city in the details. There’s a claustrophobia here, the sense of streets that swallow you up, but also a strange comfort in knowing exactly where you are. That push-pull of escape and attachment runs through every line and every note.

It’s refreshing to hear Flair lean into their melodic side without sanding off the rough edges. City Lights feels lighter than their earlier work, but there’s still a restlessness pulsing beneath the surface. The outro, where Tony repeats When you start leavin’, I start my dreamin’, lands like a bittersweet farewell, unresolved and all the more haunting for it.

In the context of their discography, City Lights is a smart evolution. Rather than pivoting away from the intensity that earned them sold-out shows and national press attention, Flair are broadening their palette. The result is a single that feels both accessible and uncompromising.

With festival slots at Belladrum and Prestfest on the horizon, plus gigs across England and Scotland, it’s clear Flair are stepping into their moment. If 2024 was the year they announced themselves as one of Scotland’s most exciting alt-rock prospects, 2025 might be the year they really burst onto the scene.

Flair have often said they want their music to be a place where chaos and stillness coexist. City Lights is exactly that, a track that glows with the energy of a city that never sleeps, even as it carves out a space for reflection. In a world saturated with indie rock that either chases nostalgia or plays it too safe, Flair are finding the sweet spot in between.

And if you’ve been following their story from packed rooms in Glasgow to festival stages and beyond, you’ll know: this isn’t just a bright spot in their catalogue, it’s another step towards something bigger. Keep your eyes on them. Just be careful the lights don’t blind you.