I’ve never heard an artistic profile with so much fresh potential, and it keeps my faith in music alive and kicking.

giddy just innately understands the fine glue that holds us together as entities in the cycle of humanity spinning around the universe.

[A]n exquisite masterclass in understated beauty. Recorded at Church Street Studios with the seasoned guidance of producer Sean Carey, ‘kintsugi’ avoids over-polished artifice in favour of organic warmth. The arrangement is delicately anchored by giddy’s evocative ukulele, an instrument she affectionately named Lorien, and layered with the soulful, grounding depth of Sophia Clark’s cello. There is a palpable sense of space here; it doesn’t rush to fill the silence but rather sits comfortably within it.

Warm is the key word here, as listening to “kintsugi” feels like the first lick of flame from dry, just-lit firewood. The sensation hits your face almost as a shock, washing slowly down your body both outside and as you breathe it further deeper through your lungs. In these frigid winter months, the song feels like healing and comfort even during the most bleak of days. And with the world the way it is today, sometimes it seems like that freeze goes far further than just a weather pattern. Those “dark times” can seep into the dry rattling bones of your soul, too, and “kintsugi” counters as a calm, soothing salve to just how bad the bad can hurt.

There’s a conversational quality to Giddy’s writing that keeps the songs grounded. Even at its most vulnerable, ‘salt’ avoids melodrama, instead sitting inside the quieter realities of resentment, care and emotional dependency. The production mirrors that restraint too. Carey’s arrangements never overpower the material, allowing contributions from pianist Shannon Stitt, cellist Sophia Clark and percussionist Jess Ciampa to deepen the emotional weight without losing the intimacy of the original bedroom recordings.