It still feels like yesterday that fans first began hearing Wyatt Flores’s name. Somehow, five years have already passed since his debut single, “Travelin’ Kid,” was first released. His album Welcome To The Plains showcased a diverse collection of songs that all felt true to the Oklahoman and revealed his artistry to a larger audience than before. Through his abilities to write and sing out his deepest, most honest feelings, he made fans feel like they truly knew him. Now, his latest record, Scared of Heights, reveals that there’s still plenty to learn, as he swerves hard into new stylistic territory.
In 2023, if you shuffled Flores’s full catalog, it was like entering a goldmine. From the engaging tension and urgency of “Please Don’t Go,” to the simple earnestness of “Write in Stone,” there was an intimate connection within the lyrics and the sound of the music that felt like you were in a room with him, eavesdropping on his innermost thoughts. A steady evolution progressed from those beginning moments until Welcome To The Plains, when the production got fuller, and there were finally more than seven or eight songs released at once.
However, the music didn’t necessarily get better when things got more professional; in fact, some of the directionless experimentation on the album felt downright odd. That keyword, “experimentation,” is the centerpiece of Scared of Heights.
Whatever inspired Wyatt’s sudden sonic overhaul remains a mystery, but one thing is undeniable: he’s a long way from the “Travelin’ Kid” we once knew. Much of the new record feels cut from the same cloth as “Falling Sideways,” an older but equally jarring departure from his trademark blend of Americana-infused country.
There’s a great deal of newness in the arrangements, including the addition of electric piano, which can either enhance or distract depending on the song. Everyone who initially heard “Runnin’ On E” and didn’t enjoy the pop infusion will likely feel the same about most of the new material. It’s not entirely fair to expect Flores to act like the same reliably distressed young adult for the rest of his career, but after a listen to this album, you’ll probably notice that Flores seems less passionate and more sonically confused, leaning into trends that just don’t fit.
The opening track, “Hate Myself,” brings a hefty load of autotune, and off the bat, there aren’t very high expectations for the rest of the tracklist. This song, plus a large portion of Scared of Heights, is infectiously catchy and smooth, but even then, Wyatt’s voice usually feels wrong for those moments and the arrangements behind them. The cheeky intro of “Not Good Enough” sounds like it should be a Disney Channel theme and shows Wyatt delusionally delighting in the humiliation of never being good enough for his partner. Again, Wyatt should be encouraged to evolve and adapt with time, but it’s hard to watch the appealing grit disappear from his sound as fancier, shinier textures and odd lyrics appear.
There are several distracting words and phrases in this album, with “pissing lemonade” and “recluse” at the top of the list. However, these oddities seem small when compared to the larger issue: Most of these songs come off agonizingly uninspired. When “Half The Man” randomly transitions from being about Wyatt’s hometown into his desire to live up to the standards defined by his father’s life, he offers no bridge between these two ideas.
“How To Let Me Go,” “South Dakota,” and “God Forgives” sit among the best songs on Scared of Heights, although “Tulsa and Eleanor” outshines them all. Also serving as the closing track, this song may be his rawest display of emotion to date. The story tracks Flores after a regretted breakup, caused by an inability to stay off the bottle. The equally devastating guitar picking that begins the song sets the tone as the story tracks Flores in the period after a strongly regretted breakup, caused by an inability to refrain from drinking. By contrasting his own emotional darkness with the image of her as “the sweetest thing, like honeysuckles in the spring,” Wyatt captures both the highest highs and the lowest lows of the relationship. Songs like this feel derived from the true, original spirit that Wyatt is known for. Unfortunately, there aren’t many more moments that carry that same familiarly earnest element.
From a newcomer’s point of view, Wyatt’s new style is all they’ve heard, and since they have no idea what Wyatt usually releases, they wouldn’t be as disappointed. However, that same newcomer will likely not be overly intrigued by the lyrical content, as there isn’t much to unravel after a single passive listen. Most of the themes circle trust issues, identity issues, broken hearts, and love, all of which he’s executed far better in the past.
