Porcelain Moon (2025)
Porcelain Moon’s second record doesn’t stray far from what they established on Bloom, but it does sound more sure of itself. The South African duo’s core palette — synths, soft textures, delicate piano, and precise vocals — stays intact, but this time it’s more focused. The bass is dialed back, the air is dialed up, and everything feels a little more deliberate and clear.
The title track opens things up with a soft, welcoming tone. It’s gentle, but not fragile. Warm and clean with just enough percussion to keep it moving. Wishbone leans into jumpy piano chords and strong melodic control. Nothing’s flashy, but it’s catchy in a way that sneaks up on you.
Aeroplane Park gets a reintroduction here to deep cut fans of Porcelain Moon, and it fits seamlessly. Still shiny and carefully produced, now repackaged to reflect the growth. This whole record hovers in a soft synth-pop lane, but it’s hard to pin it to just one label — electronic in feel, but not electronic in build.
Sugar Rush is the gateway track — it’s the one that pulled me in. There’s a clear mid-2010s energy to it, but it doesn’t feel dated. It’s bright and romantic without ever leaning too far into cliché. The color it paints is vivid. This is the kind of track that earns its single status fast.
Midnight Drive is a personal favorite. It plays like a neon-lit late-night cityscape with driving drums, synths that lean more ’80s than modern, and a chorus that sticks hard. The filtered guitar solo is one of the most satisfying sonic moments on the entire album.
Tracks like Remember December and Not Giving You Up slow the pace down again slightly with soft hip-hop drums, piano-focused arrangements, and dreamy textures that never drift too far. The Walking on a Dream cover keeps the familiarity of the original Empire of the Sun hit, but trades dancefloor energy for something softer and more sentimental.
In the back half, Round We Go stands out with its rhythmic shifts and strong vocal harmonies. Ghost in the Machine, Tangerine Sky, and Monsters and Marvels don’t necessarily break new ground sonically from what we’ve heard up until this point, but they stay consistent, well-executed, and excellently written. Seasons is probably the closest thing to a ballad — warm, padded, and slow-moving — while the closer, Tomorrow’s Only a Dream Away, wraps everything up with just enough delicacy to leave a mark.
This record doesn’t shout. It creates a space — soft-edged, emotionally warm, and full of atmosphere — and lets you live in it for a little while.
