Finnish musician GEA says of her album, “I wish it to inspire people to acknowledge that anything organic, anything alive is in constant movement. We change and grow constantly, towards what we should be, towards our potential.” Not only is Butterflies successful in this regard, but it reflects its message in the shifting of style and tone that occurs throughout. A true metamorphosis of sound.
Butterflies, like the organic being it is named for, is never static, and never remains in the same territory for long. Beginning with the delicate, earthy “Followers”, the album kicks off on perhaps the strongest note. From there we move into similarly fluid “Pink”, which creates a sense of mourning in the scale of the strings and the click of the percussion.
Starting a trend, the album makes its first pivot to face a new genre. As though she is continuously turning towards an ever-moving light, GEA uses her voice to reflect her source of inspiration, and on “Alone” and “Little Detail” she faces a more traditional sound. “Little Detail” features the luscious inclusion of horns, which adds a uniqueness that is paralleled by the inclusion of a second voice later, on “Real You and Me” — a duet with a dash of playfulness.
The sound of nature is also a repeated motif on Butterflies, and often in the form of water. The gentle trickle of piano cascades like rivulets down a window on “Wind”, and the actual sounds of the waves crashing supplements the heavier “Enemy”, which is a ballad worthy of being sung across rocky shores.
The album concludes with a simpler, more music-box like song. “Butterflies” brings the spotlight once more to GEA’s voice, and her range is showcased, leaving the stylistically tumultuous album on a steady note, and anxious to see where the always moving, always changing GEA will bring next.