Brighton trio Orchards have always thrived in the in-between—melding indie-pop’s effervescence with math-rock’s technicality—but on their sophomore album Bicker, they sharpen their sound into something bolder, heavier, and utterly unignorable. It’s a record that feels like a sugar rush and an open wound at the same time—bittersweet, luminous, and packed with neon-bright guitars, intricate rhythms, and lyrics that hit like a punch to the gut.
Frontwoman Lucy Evers calls Bicker the “quintessential breakup album” but it’s about more than just romantic collapse. It dissects the slow unravelling of all kinds of relationships—friendships, self-trust, and the messy process of detaching your identity from another person. That constant push-and-pull, the ache of holding on and the relief of letting go, pulses through every track.
From the off, Bicker delivers. The opening track explodes into life with pounding drums and Lucy’s soaring vocal hooks—it’s a straight-up rock banger, and its infectious simplicity makes it all the more powerful. Lead single I Feel Terrible is a prime example, capturing the inner battle between self-doubt and defiance. “It’s about the pull between knowing something is hurting you but still wanting to stay,” Evers explains. The track builds in layers, the band tightening their grip around a melody that’s both devastating and stupidly catchy. If there’s any justice in the world, this one will shove Orchards into new territory.
Elsewhere, Sweetie Pie drips with resentment, its jagged hooks and razor-sharp lyricism cutting deep. “The contents of your context doesn’t change the fact you’ve got a power complex, A 1000 times I know you’ve lied” Evers spits, her delivery ice-cold. Orchards have always had a knack for disguising heartbreak in shimmering, danceable brilliance, but Bicker proves they’ve perfected the art.
Yet beneath all the glittering hooks and mathy guitars, there’s real vulnerability. Bethnal Green ditches the overdriven riffs for a gentle acoustic line and a stripped-back vocal, revealing a darker, more introspective side to the band. It flows seamlessly into GERL and its brooding pop sensibilities, while Mug Song keeps Bicker’s signature sound intact but lays bare a sobering reflection on failed relationships and alcohol abuse. Closer You Can Get Used to Anything leans into synth-driven pop, starting in a frantic rush before settling into a sultry, atmospheric groove—Evers’ voice dominating as the chorus swells into something massive, tailor-made for a live setting.
Recorded with Jack Wilson (Fickle Friends) in his Shoreham home studio, Bicker carries the weight of the past few years—breakups, illness, depression—but never wallows. Instead, it thrives on contradiction: joyous yet pensive, intricate yet effortless, wounded yet defiant and the album never loses any momentum with each track hitting with fresh energy that keeps you locked in from start to finish.
Evers sums up the tension that fuels Orchards: “We sound like we hate each other, but weirdly, it’s the opposite. Love and hate sit next to each other in the circle of life.” And that’s exactly what makes Bicker so compelling—an album that aches, shimmers, and ultimately, soars.
You can pre-order the album here – https://orcd.co/bicker