Take walk on the wild Welsh side with the wonderfully psychedelic-ambience of Ed O’Brien‘s Blue Morpho.
Release date: May 22, 2026 | Transgressive Records | Instagram | Bandcamp
Ed O’Brien’s new solo album reminds me of George Harrison — and I mean that George Harrison: the one who made All Things Must Pass. Paul McCartney and John Lennon may have written most of the Beatles’ songs and received most of the glory, but it wasn’t really until you heard Harrison’s solo material that you realized he was at least fifty percent of what made them as good as they were (sorry, Ringo). I’m not saying that Blue Morpho is anywhere near that level of creativity, but in terms of being a definitive album in a career well spent, this one is it. The Smile, the other half of Radiohead, sounds like Radiohead with something missing and, clearly, O’Brien is it.
Blue Morpho is a modest, gentle exploration of being in the middle of it all and crossing over to the other side. O’Brien has reached a point in his musical career where there’s not much left for the band to prove, if they ever had anything to prove in the first place. Age also makes one grow more insular and less dependent on others. Our bodies slow down so that we can make sense of what’s important in the world: opening the door to a new morning and being lucky to be alive.
Blue Morpho, much like All Things Must Pass, wades in a deep lake of spirituality as well. On All Things Must Pass, there was a sense of Harrison being set free, completely in charge. In this case, that’s where we find O’Brien: one hundred percent the guitar player and his vision, crafting a hymnal to where he is in his musical life, and life in general.
The gentle, finger-picked guitar of opener “Incantations”, punctuated by reverb-drenched guitars, mellow synths, and O’Brien’s deliberate, delicate vocals, establishes a mood of introspective reverence. There are most definitely some Radiohead-esque motifs, particularly in the bridges that lean into the choruses, but they feel adjacent in a way that The Smile’s work can seem like a fist to the face. In other words, it could be that O’Brien is actually the heart and soul of that band, as opposed to its more famous members.
The gorgeous, plaintive title track and “Sweet Spot” are emblematic of the soundscapes O’Brien creates. In conjunction with the Tallinn Chamber Orchestra, Zimbabwean genre-crossing artist Eksa, Dave Okumu — who plays bass and helped with the arrangements — as well as Radiohead drummer Philip Selway, the compositions on Blue Morpho are meticulously crafted. Almost classical in aesthetic, there’s no rush inherent in the songs on the album. They dare you to sit down, listen, and be in the moment, understanding that these moments act as slowly moving conveyor belts into the future.
The funk-driven track “Teachers” charts the transition from student to instructor. ‘Midway through life, I’ve just lost my way, lost my way, lost my way,’ O’Brien whispers over the ambient textures laid down by his band. The song meanders into mid-’70s Pink Floyd psychedelia, another spiritual tribute to the sonic gods. Halfway through, a single bass line muddles its way beneath synth swells and tribal drums before O’Brien’s heavily effected guitar rips over the backbeat like flames from a bonfire, flickering from color to color. An album highlight, “Teachers” shows O’Brien at his creative best.
Album closer “Obrigado” celebrates O’Brien’s love affair with Brazil. Having spent a year with his family in a remote village in the vast South American country, O’Brien’s affection for Brazil is respectfully rendered through this nine-minute opus. Like 2019’s “Brasil”, “Obrigado” is a playful homage to the samba and bossa nova rhythms that helped put Brazilian music on the map. Far from being a piece of musical appropriation, the combination of O’Brien’s ambient touches and laid-back vocals over tribal beats and choruses comes across as genuine as a ripe mango plucked from a tree.
While Blue Morpho, of course, lacks the massive creative weight of All Things Must Pass, it does represent a side of O’Brien that isn’t often seen — or heard — in his more famous project. The spiritual heft of O’Brien’s craftsmanship gives the album an intensity that makes it worth spending time with. Like the namesake butterfly of the album’s title, Blue Morpho represents a metamorphosis: a maestro of modern music majestically spreading his wings and creating something equally beautiful and meditative.
