It’s Only Temporary

It’s Only Temporary lands with the kind of presence that doesn’t shout for attention but earns it naturally, almost immediately. There’s a maturity to this album not in the sense of being polished to death, but in how assured the band sound in their choices. Every decision feels intentional, the pacing, the atmosphere, even the way the heavier moments hit. It’s the kind of record where you can tell the band weren’t trying to impress anyone but themselves, and that honesty ends up being the thing that stands out.

The first thing you really notice is how well Blackbird blend emotional weight with musical punch. The guitars have this rugged, almost weathered tone that gives the whole album a backbone, but instead of just leaning on heaviness, the band use that grit to frame something more introspective. There’s a real sense of push and pull moments where the sound feels huge and driven, then others where everything scales back, letting melodies and textures step forward. It creates a living, breathing flow that holds your attention without ever feeling forced.

What’s particularly strong here is the band’s sense of space. They leave room for songs to expand naturally, allowing tension to build and settle in a way that feels very human. The drum work quietly shapes a lot of that dynamic shifting from tight, focused rhythms into looser, more atmospheric passages when the mood calls for it. And the vocals carry that same balance. They’re delivered with a kind of grounded emotion, never tipping into melodrama, but always giving you enough to latch onto. You can hear the thought behind the delivery, the way certain lines are pushed harder or eased back to let the meaning sit.

Sonically, the band manage to keep the album cohesive while still exploring different shades of their sound. There are parts that lean into darker, heavier territory, and others that reach toward something almost cinematic, but nothing feels out of place. Instead, each change in tone feels like another facet of the same story. The production plays a big role in that, it keeps everything warm and slightly raw around the edges, resisting the urge to sterilise or over perfect anything. That texture makes the emotional themes hit harder.

Speaking of themes, the album’s title really does capture its core. It’s Only Temporary circles around ideas of impermanence, change, the moments that slip through your fingers whether you want them to or not. But instead of feeling bleak, it lands more like acceptance, a kind of reflection on the way everything keeps moving. The band explore it with a subtlety that works in their favour, the emotion is there, strong and unmissable, but never spelled out in neon lights.

As a full piece, the album has a genuine arc to it. You feel it gradually gathering weight, then loosening its grip, then tightening again almost like someone working through something in real time. By the time it ends, it leaves you with that familiar, lingering heaviness that only comes from records built on real experiences rather than posturing.

In the end, It’s Only Temporary is one of those albums that grows the more you sit with it. Blackbird have crafted something that feels personal without being inward looking, heavy without being blunt, atmospheric without drifting. It’s a deeply honest record, the kind that sticks around because you can feel the life in it, the questions, the tension, the release, the acceptance. A genuinely compelling listen, and easily one of their most resonant works yet.