Rock/Review West Wickhams - Sakura

West Wickhams are Jon Othello and Elle Flores, a psychedelique Noir Deux peace, originally from Tresco on the Isles of Scilly. Tresco is famously the island of lost souls and is home to subtropical plants and shipwrecked figureheads. They recently relocated to Richmond, Surrey, where the creatures rule. The West Wickhams are an imagined rival gang to punk-style icons the Bromley Contingent.

With their new EP “Sakura,” West Wickhams craft a dreamlike sonic meditation on mono no aware — the Japanese aesthetic of embracing life’s fleeting beauty. True to the symbolism of cherry blossoms, the EP is delicate yet emotionally potent, built on shimmering soundscapes, shadowy melodies, and the duo’s signature post-punk art-gaze aesthetic. Each track feels like a blossom drifting in the wind: fragile, glowing, and gone too soon.

West Wickhams channel the poetry of impermanence not through austerity, but through richly textured atmosphere. Glistening synths, hazy guitar lines, and pulsing rhythms create a sense of soft motion, as if the music itself is suspended in a slow spring breeze. Vocals hover ghostlike above the mix — intimate, wistful, and steeped in a quiet ache that mirrors the pathos of things.

What makes “Sakura” especially captivating is its emotional subtlety. Rather than dramatize the idea of transience, the EP invites listeners to feel it. Moments of brightness are allowed to bloom briefly before dissolving into darker tones, capturing the same sensation that gives sakura their iconic power: beauty heightened by its brevity. The songs drift between dream-pop, gothic hues, and avant-garde minimalism, forming a cohesive cycle about presence, loss, renewal, and surrender.

Both visually and sonically, West Wickhams stay true to the philosophical heart of their theme. “Sakura” isn’t just an EP — it’s an immersive reflection on time, beauty, and what it means to cherish moments as they slip away.