“Sunlight,” the third single released off flipturn’s forthcoming sophomore LP ‘Burnout Days,’ chugs along at a pace akin to that of life on the road. Living up to its namesake, it beams brightly, but as its lyrics encounter familial trauma and unchecked bad habits, it burns out with a dizzying, grungey climax.
by guest writer Anna Pichler
Stream: “Sunlight” – flipturn
Sunlight is something the members of rising indie rock band flipturn are no stranger to, hailing from the small, idyllic town of Fernandina Beach, Florida.
Fittingly, the five-piece’s buoyant indie pop/rock seems injected with the warm rays perennially bathing their hometown – you can feel it in the glinting keys, the scintillating riffs, the rollicking rhythms. That sonic light seeping through flipturn’s discography is simply irresistible, and it’s won over thousands of fans since the band’s formation in 2015 – and since the release of their breakout debut LP, 2022’s Shadowglow, the band have played sets at major festivals including Lollapalooza, Governor’s Ball, and Bonnaroo.
Even as flipturn’s forthcoming single “Sunlight” slowly awakens – the muted guitar strumming gradually coming into focus with a decisive drumbeat and curling, instantly immersive riff – it reflects its namesake; light and life pulsate within the musical backdrop and singer Dillon Basse’s deliciously lush vocals (what a waste of a voice it would be if he didn’t sing). With a forward-driving tempo, it’s a song well suited for long, breezy drives, letting sunshine and a cool breeze creep into rolled-down windows. Yet, as Basse recounts haunting scenes from his family’s past while the lustrous production makes way for a churning, grungy tempest, the song’s musical climate proves to be much less idyllic than what its title might forecast.
The third single supporting flipturn’s highly anticipated sophomore LP, Burnout Days (out January 24, 2025 via Dualtone Records), “Sunlight” is a captivating foreshadowing of the upcoming album’s gripping intimacy and exploration of diverse soundscapes. To say the least, it’s a song Atwood Magazine is excited to premiere.
Everyone’s been asking me,
“Honey, how you gonna handle yourself?”
Looking at the family tree
It might be
Something that you’re dealt
“Sunlight” begins steadily enough with a mesmerizing backbeat, and Basse’s honeyed vocals are just as sweeping. However, each word that effortlessly trails from his lips seems not laced not with peace, but rather a melancholy languor; each sigh comes not from close-lidded peace, but red-eyed exhaustion. In slowing down after grinding through incessant tours and recordings, Basse’s demons – generational trauma, loved ones’ high expectations, and unchecked self-destructive habits – have caught up to him, and neither he, nor us listeners, can turn away for any longer.
In a press statement for Burnout Days, Basse deems the album’s tracklist “stories about the side effects” of burnout; “Sunlight” certainly captures the desolate, daunting aftermath of burnout.
We can’t all relate to chugging away on exhaustive tours, but surely, most of us have found, that after wrapping up a long-term, full-throttle pursuit, our more unpleasant feelings, resentments, and fears hit us at once – while we’ve diverted our attention, they’ve been festering inside us all along.
Amy’s on her way to rehab again
Lily’s gonna drive her there
Every ounce of gas that she has
Mama, she’d take you anywhere
Bonny hates an emotional man
She needs a man who understands
And only someone she can stand
To lose
And James is always out of town
But he never leaves
He doesn’t know how
Such a shame they’re so predictable
“‘Sunlight’ might be the most personal and honest song I’ve written lyrically,” Basse tells Atwood Magazine. “I started writing words for it the day my mom had to be driven to rehab again by my little sister. I wanted to tell a story of acceptance of those closest to us for who they are because ultimately they are the people shaping us and changing us the most.”
“For me, it’s about taking pride in the things we cannot change,” he continues. “It’s a song about love, but it’s also about accepting things that are hard to accept. Just like a bonsai, we have to be pruned to grow, and sometimes that pruning feels brutal. But in the end, it’s the only way forward – and we can find peace in that struggle.”
It ultimately is the people we love most whose failings keep us up, tossing and turning into the night.
We can try to detach ourselves as a means of self-defense, but love doesn’t flicker out so easily – just listen to Basse’s voice swell with affection as he vows, “Mama, she’d take you anywhere.”
Even when they come undone and let us down, our loved ones are the those for whom we’d use up “every ounce of gas” in the tank, literally or figuratively, to rescue, even if our tires deflate on the way to reaching them.
It’s everybody changing
And changing what you can
I know, I know, I know it is
And I know, I know, I know the difference
But I spend all of my time
Like a cokehead in a confine
As the song chugs on at a breathless tempo akin to that of life on the road, the lid suffocating all of Basse’s gnawing and neglected anxieties completely blows off – a ramshackle growl just undercuts his exquisite vocal control as he watches his loved ones transform before his eyes, helpless to slow time down.
His turn inward, though, might be the song’s most gut-punching moment – with stinging clarity, he realizes his own self-medicative habits aren’t that unlike his mother’s once were (“I spend all my time like a cokehead in a confine”). Masterfully evoking Basse’s emotional whirlwind, grungey guitar chords hammer down, and a zig-zagging electric riff slices through the sheen production like lightning. Applause is due for the band (guitarist Tristan Duncan, guitarist/synth player Mitch Fountain, bassist Madeline Jarman, and drummer Devon VonBalson) here; this tempest of sound is undoubtedly among their most stirring compositions to date.
And I don’t resist, you don’t resist
But you try, I’ve tried, I try
Everyone’s been asking
Everyone’s been asking
When we’ve pushed ourselves to the brink of burnout, we realize what we’re left with isn’t our accomplishments or failures, but ourselves, and the people who make and break us – the people whom we love.
Our choices for moving forward become clear: keep trying to“resist” whatever gnaws at us from the inside-out, or give ourselves some grace in facing the cacophonic music of our past and present realities, let ourselves disintegrate like those whirring guitars.
flipturn choose the latter on “Sunlight,” and we could all take a cue. Only when we stop pushing and allow ourselves a breath – even if that breath splinters into a sob – only then we can try, and try again, to find resolve.
Stream flipturn’s “Sunlight” exclusively on Atwood Magazine. The band’s sophomore LP Burnout Days is out January 24, 2025 via Dualtone Records!
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Anna Pichler is a freelance writer and English literature major at The Ohio State University. Her work has appeared in Paste and Ohio State publications including The Lantern, for which she is music columnist.
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:: stream/purchase Sunlight here ::
:: connect with flipturn here ::
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Stream: “Sunlight” – flipturn
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