Lingering After the Bloom: Inside West Wickhams’ Sakura

West Wickhams’ Sakura EP drifts into view like a half-remembered scene—blurred at the edges, heavy with feeling, and already beginning to fade. Rooted in the Japanese idea of mono no aware, the release centres on the emotional weight of impermanence: the quiet ache that comes from knowing a moment won’t last. Across five tracks, the duo explore fragility not as something to resist, but as something quietly profound, allowing the music to linger long after its brief runtime ends. The EP opens with “Up to the Old Tricks,” a track that immediately establishes West Wickhams’ lo-fi post-punk dreamscape. Hazy synths, understated rhythms, and a sense of emotional detachment pull the listener into a world that feels both intimate and slightly unreal. There’s a bedroom-pop closeness to the sound, but it’s filtered through noir psychedelia, giving the music a darker, more introspective edge.

Across the EP, Jon Othello and Elle Flores demonstrate a sharp sensitivity to atmosphere. Songs drift rather than push forward, favouring texture and mood over obvious hooks. This restraint reflects Sakura’s underlying philosophy: experiences aren’t meant to be rushed or neatly explained. The production feels purposefully worn and imperfect, reinforcing themes of distance, decay, and emotional ambiguity. The duo’s background adds another layer of intrigue. Originating from Tresco on the Isles of Scilly—an island marked by shipwrecks, folklore, and subtropical oddness—West Wickhams carry a sense of quiet otherworldliness into their work.

Now based in Richmond, Surrey, they continue to expand their own mythology, describing themselves as a rival gang to the Bromley Contingent and blending punk defiance with gothic romanticism. Influences from Edgar Allan Poe and Daphne du Maurier to ancient myths, pipe organs, and dark punk culture subtly shape the EP’s mood. The closing track, “Save Yourself,” offers no grand resolution—only a calm reckoning with vulnerability, acceptance, and emotional exposure. Rather than demanding attention, Sakura invites patience. In embracing transience, West Wickhams create a release that feels delicate yet deliberate—a reminder that fleeting moments often carry the deepest resonance if we allow ourselves to sit with them.