Album Review: InsydeOut by Flwr Chyld
Flwr Chyld makes music in the spaces between definitions. After years of slowly building a catalogue of EPs and producer‑led collaborations, he arranges modern soul, alt‑R&B, and digital funk.
Kevin Brown’s career up to InsydeOut is best described as an exercise in curation. Those who have followed him since Iridescent Luv, the 2019 EP that impressed the underground indie‑R&B scene, know he writes with sound rather than words. Influenced by the jazzy experiments of Robert Glasper and Terrace Martin. He cut his teeth flipping Neptunes’ beats, making cozy flips of classic R&B, and helming pockets of friends‑only sessions. His 2022 debut album Luv N Chaos gathered a cast of collaborators, including Flozigg and Kadhja Bonet, and turned the checkpoints of infatuation into a funk‑inflected diary. The record has racked up millions of streams and was even championed by NPR. He and Grimm Lynn spun their 2024 joint EP Café Noir into a “third space for Black collective escapism,” serving late‑night grooves and touring them across North America. Along the way, Brown dropped a parade of singles (“Do 2 Me,” “Lucky Me,” “Floating,” “Eucalyptus”) with guest vocalists like Sebastian Mikael, Elujay, and Ego Ella May.
InsydeOut arrives after label wrangling and creative setbacks (it is released on Issa Rae’s Raedio, under exclusive license to Def Jam). Brown began conceptualizing it in the fall of 2023 and built its bones around color theory and the idea of opposites attracting. He studied complementary hues and imagined dating as a journey from red to green, designing key changes that brighten and darken the hook to reflect shifting emotions. He makes clear in interviews that he loves bridges and unconventional structures, and he wanted this record to throw wrenches into predictable patterns. There’s also the weight of personal turmoil. Negotiating major‑label bureaucracy made him briefly consider quitting, but we’re happy that he didn’t. He released the album because, as he says with CLASH, “the music is what matters.” Those factors give InsydeOut a sense of clarity. For once, the scattered brilliance of his past singles coalesces into a cohesive world where each collaborator isn’t just a cameo but a vessel moving through his design.
The opening instrumental “PureTemptation” floats in on jazzy undertones. It sets the record’s palette with analog warmth washed in digital reverb before Malaya’s voice slides into “Bittersweet.” Over a mid‑tempo groove with thick bass and a trap snare, she sings about the paranoid thrill of a new attraction (“What you mean I’m insane for searching your mistakes/Tryna find a reason to give into these stakes”). Brown’s production is far more deliberate than on Luv N Chaos: the drum programming breathes, the guitar slides are placed with intent, and there’s a subtle key change that brightens everything without interrupting the flow. Malaya’s singing voice shines through, yet the way he leaves space around her makes the doubt feel ritualistic. This is Brown translating touch into sound, as each break and return is timed to the lover’s inhale.
Kadhja Bonet’s appearance on “ForeverNear” is the album’s first sigh of genuine relief. Her airy soprano lists everyday acts of care over a shimmering electric guitar and a lilting bassline with a soulful reggae-inspired groove. Brown’s mix foregrounds the smallest gestures (the brush of drums, the flutter of flutes and harps) until the song feels like a private ceremony. He trusts Bonet’s tone to hold the center, letting the arrangement exhale rather than explode. Even when he adds an instrument flourish, it glides in like a hand across a shoulder. The track illustrates how InsydeOut trades the hazy warmth of earlier projects for productions that sound lived‑in rather than looped—these aren’t one‑bar grooves chopped ad infinitum but songs that sweat and expand.
Brown’s fascination with domestic devotion shines on “PerfectImperfections.” Mack Keane sings about love embedded in routine (coffee steam, shadows on a daily stroll) over a tempo that straddles slow jam and funk that will remind you of Prince. “In the morning, in the evening/Every weekday, every weekend” flirts with cliché, yet the imagery of steam and shadows grounds it. Where some producers would loop the two‑step pattern ad nauseam, Brown adds subtle chord modulations that evoke the way affection deepens with each mundane day. Still, the songwriting can feel a little thin; by the second verse, the lyrics are enumerating weather elements rather than delving into the quirks and flaws the title promises. The strength of the track lies in how it makes domesticity groove—if you lean into the feeling, the words don’t have to be poetry.
“ReasonsWhy,” featuring James Tillman, moves from domestic bliss to post‑mortem introspection. Tillman catalogues the excuses lovers make when revisiting a breakup—“All of the reasons why we can’t go back in time”—while Brown envelops his falsetto in chord progressions that shift from minor to major without warning. A recurring melodic phrase gestures toward sentimentality, yet the guitar progression and ethereal layering of vocals transform it into something far more nuanced. Brown’s measured compositional restraint is crucial; rather than driving toward an emphatic resolution, he allows the structure to attenuate gradually. This choice highlights a sophisticated awareness of musical form and emotional economy, reinforcing the track’s central idea that certain motives and affections persist precisely because they remain unarticulated.
Ricki Monique and Sebastian Mikael bring a change of scenery to “East&West.” Monique’s verses compare country grammar and southern breeze; Mikael answers with a sun‑soaked hook about beach days and rolling through the late night. Brown’s production splits the difference between vocal stacking and guitar + piano chord combo with incredible drum patterns. The duet is charming, but it’s also the album’s most conventional moment. Where earlier tracks used everyday detail to evoke specificity, this opts for broad strokes. It’s the one song that feels like it could have lived on any of his previous EPs.
Pink Siifu and Grimm Lynn pull the album back into abstraction on “MoodRing.” Siifu’s opening verse is free‑associative and elliptical, while Grimm Lynn answers with a meditation on alignment and taking one’s time. The hook ties the color theory concept to the record’s emotional palette. Brown’s production here is delightfully slippery, evoking the feeling of lights reflecting off a spinning ring. The song’s power lies not in narrative clarity but in texture. Brown uses these vocals like instruments. “TemporaryLuv” is the only misfire. Foggieraw’s verses lean into hook‑up humor (“Met you down in Dallas, will you follow me down to Houston?/Ain’t tell my mama ‘bout you, so there is no need introducin’”), and Brown places them with a breezy slow groove. The track aims for casual intimacy but lands somewhere between filler and afterthought, where its lyrics reduce connection to a string of geographic references and sports metaphors, and the beat never quite evolves. Coming after the rich textures of “MoodRing,” it feels like a B-side from an earlier session.
Kent Jamz salvages the back half with “EmptyBaggage.” Over a mid‑tempo groove reminiscent of early The Internet, he sings about wanting love while sabotaging it—“I know I got baggage, baby… make it difficult on me.” Brown counters the therapy‑speak lyricism by layering knotted bass lines and muted guitar, turning the song into an inner dialogue. Jamz’s second verse, where he admits to dropping the love interest off at LAX and feeling hollow afterwards, is the record’s most candid moment; the writing might be simple, but its bluntness cuts through the haze. Amaria is singing about cyclical seasonal romance (“Started soft and so easy/Walks in parks, it was breezy/You were here for a season”) over a shuffle beat on “SummerFall” that evokes the first crisp evening of autumn. By ending on wordless pieces, Brown showcases what has always been his greatest strength: he can convey feeling without a single lyric. Throughout InsydeOut, he lets his collaborators occupy the emotional world he’s constructed, but he’s never absent.
Great (★★★★☆)
Favorite Track(s): “ForeverNear,” “ReasonsWhy” “MoodRing,”