Honeyglaze are a South London based, haiku-loving trio comprised of vocalist and guitarist Anouska Sokolow, bassist Tim Curtis, and Yuri Shibuichi on drums.

Born out of lead songwriter Sokolow’s un-desire to be a solo-act, the group met officially at their first ever rehearsal, just three days ahead of what was to become a near-residency at their favoured ‘The Windmill’, Brixton. Forming a mere five-months ahead of a subsequent five-months of mandatory solitude, Honeyglaze, at first appearance, are a group who play with chance, time, and synergetic fate, in a manner few others are able to do.

A thirty-minute YouTube live session recorded in the garage of their close pal Fran for ‘FarmFest 2020’ pricked the ears of seminal producer Dan Carey and his team of meticulous taste-makers Speedy Wunderground (Tiña, Squid, Black Country New Road).

A significant step-up from their previous routine of writing, rehearsing and recording in Yuri’s bedroom, in the company of Carey and his team, Honeyglaze were introduced to an entirely new universe – one filled with a ‘Swarmatron’, long-sweaty afternoons in window-less analogue, and total, creative freedom.

Much like the eponymously debuted statements of contemporary Folk-singer Bedouine’s ‘Bedouine’, ‘Crosby, Stills and Nash’, or, dare we suggest Madonna’s ‘Madonna’, Honeyglaze the album presents to the world an audibly picturesque documentation of soul-searching, in all its figment’s of reality; a proclamation of cultivated intent which in turn creates a subliminal safe-space between relatability and self-projection, and creative-comradery paired with introspective artistry.

A self-described “opposite to a concept album” that sonically encapsulates the who, what, where and how of their individual circumstances coming together as one, Honeyglaze is storytelling at its most soulful, presenting human instinct in a manner that accepts all of the insecurities that come from their present adolescence, whilst acknowledging the formative maturity that’s earned when we allow ourselves to embrace the unknown, of our futures ahead.

“If someone is going to find you special – then you want to show what’s most special about yourself,” notes Curtis. “Then you can do what you want from there.”

Mixing the personal with romanticised ideals in ways that are simultaneously heart-wrenching and humorous to a dead-pan effect, there is no one trajectory for Honeyglaze, whose greatest ability is finding ways to present what’s written in-between the lines, in moments of beautifully well-versed clarity.

Tackling themes varying from jealousy to inadequacy, codependent companionships to the smell of coffee on clothes, as with all good reflections of self, Honeyglaze is a fly on the wall opportunity to get to know three familial strangers in your own way – whilst they too suss out themselves, and the ever-growing circle around them, in the span of 37 minutes.