There’s a slow-burning alchemy happening in the world of Common Saints. With ‘Firebird’, Charlie J Perry reemerges from the warm afterglow of his debut album ‘Cinema 3000’ with a song that’s both rich and politically sharp, delivering a cocktail of silky grooves, smoky guitar lines, and a lyrical backbone that bites harder the longer you sit with it.
From behind the boards to centre stage, Perry’s evolution is one worth watching. Known for shaping the sound of boundary-pushing artists like Jorja Smith and BTS, his own project feels like a culmination of years spent marinating in other people’s brilliance, only to now unleash his own with unapologetic clarity. ‘Firebird’ might float on a pillowy bed of analogue tones, but its message is anything but soft.
At its core, the track delivers a sharp-tongued critique of the political theatre many of us have grown numb to, full of empty gestures and shifting allegiances. Perry cuts through the noise with a plea not for passivity but for transformation. His velvet voice glides over a hypnotic rhythm section, drenched in reverb and bursting with colour. It’s funk with a conscience. Psych with a point. Music that doesn’t just soundtrack a moment but tries to move it.
And it lands at just the right time. With his largest solo gig to date set for Omeara this May, Common Saints is officially stepping into a new phase. This isn’t a songwriter testing the waters, it’s a fully realised artist showing us what the next chapter sounds like.
If ‘Cinema 3000’ was the dreamlike overture, ‘Firebird’ is the wake-up call; bold, groove-soaked, and full of soul. Perry is crafting a worldview, and with songs like this, it’s hard not to want to live in it.
