Hopefully ! By Loyle Carner Is The New Chapter I Was Looking For All Along.

I was first introduced to Loyle Carner when I was eighteen.

I remember being on a train to Leicester for a gig, when my friend first showed me his Youtube videos. I was instantly hooked, playing his entire discography on the ride home, in awe. In awe that music could sound like that, in awe that music could be as honest as that. That day was the start of something truly transformative – music so deeply rooted in my being, it felt as though I had written the lyrics myself. 

It seems no matter what I’ve gone through, there is a lyric written by Loyle Carner that perfectly describes that exact feeling. 

My Dad loved Loyle Carner, too.

He always said that Loyle understood him and I never quite knew what he meant. Then he passed and with Loyle’s third album hugo – an album exploring the complicated feelings surrounding his own father and fatherhood, laid bare over tracks that left me truly speechless – I finally understood what my Dad meant. I was in a hotel room in America at the time, listening to the album alone, later tweeting to Loyle that I needed compensation for the amount of tears I had shed. And to be honest, hopefully ! isn’t any different.

Loyle really does get it. Doesn’t he?

He understands familial relationships on a level that only my therapist or journal can reach. It was heartbreaking, but amongst it was hope and revelations for something better – and something better was all I’d been searching for in the two years (at that point) since my Father passed away.

Now, Loyle has released another album. His newest offering, hopefully ! is perhaps his most tender and poignant yet. It’s a beautiful, deeply personal exploration of fatherhood, the echoes of childhood and a profound journey to connect with his son. The album’s artwork, graced by his son’s own hand, is a heartfelt statement, inviting us into the very core of this new, vulnerable chapter.

Starting the album off with the line, “accidents, beautiful accidents, things that came before and things that haven’t happened since,” feels especially poignant.

The opening track ‘feel at home’ does what it says on the tin. It feels like kicking off your shoes at the door, the dog running up to you, tripping you up as you go into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Nana’s there, making tea and my grandad is on the sofa, we’re reminiscing on what our summers in Devon used to be like and … well, it feels like home. You don’t just listen to this album, you can feel the comforting, if not sometimes confronting presence of family woven throughout, especially Loyle’s son, who can be heard on the closing track ‘about time’, asking to go home. That’s where we all want to go, isn’t it? Bundled up in our favourite blanket, my sister’s feet digging into my side because the sofa is too small for us all to fit.

This is an album that speaks directly to the soul, navigating the often messy feelings related to becoming a father, particularly when your own upbringing might have left you searching for a clearer blueprint. Loyle addresses these complexities with his signature raw honesty, but now, there’s an added layer of hopeful vulnerability. 

Honesty pours from Loyle, in the form of introspective lyrics that cut deep to jazzy notes that flow through you and make you stand still and actually listen. I find it hard sometimes to listen, mostly because I get overwhelmed easily, so most of the time something goes in one ear and out the other. But, Loyle Carner is the first artist to make me stop and listen to every word he had to say. Whether I could directly relate, or not, I still knew that I felt it. And that, in itself, is more than enough. 

Musically, the album is a masterclass in intertwining instrumentals – which are rich, textured and deeply atmospheric. There’s powerful reminders subtly woven into every single aspect, reminding us to cherish every step we take, no matter how big or small, or how messy or tidy those steps might be. The songs build in a way that has you hanging onto every word Loyle is telling you — especially in ‘horcrux’ which has to be my favourite on the album.

The drums are heavy, you can almost feel them before you hear them and I’m genuinely so excited to see how it translates live, when Loyle embarks on his world tour later this year. The backing vocals are sweet, while Loyle is at the forefront of it all, talking about things that make you stop and think. The line “I live through you,” haunts me a little bit, feeling like something my Dad is whispering to me from the sky above.

It’s true, isn’t it? How me and Gabby are just vehicles for him, two living beings that get to continue to share him to the world through mannerisms or words that he used or music that he adored. We are him and he is us. 

The truth of it all is that you can’t really ever escape something or someone you love, can you? No matter how much you try to step away from it … you’ll always come back to it. In the form of music that they loved, places they used to go to, things they loved to do.

The album’s title track, ‘hopefully’ features the wonderful Benjamin Zephaniah, who against soft saxophone lines, shares thoughts on the world that we both surround ourselves with and are in. Police sirens sound, to create a soundscape that feels more than just a song. The line, “you give me hope in human kind,” honestly sent me into a bit of a spiral, but it was very much needed. Hope is a gentle thing, something you can feel so close to getting, but then also stray so far away. What is hope, really? A feeling? An act? Maybe I’m getting too existential on you, I apologise. To me, hope is seeing my mother’s eyes light up, hearing my sister’s laugh, my Nana’s face on Facetime, or me and my grandad doing the crossword every Sunday. It’s in those quiet, everyday moments of connection that I start to figure out what hope means to me. And maybe, after you’ve listened to this album, you’ll start to figure out what it means to you, too.

And then there’s ‘purpose’ which floats into my ears with pretty piano lines and lyrics that are very much here to stay as well as resonate a little too deeply, actually. “I wonder if it’s just my childhood I’m grieving” has stayed with me long after listening to this album. A track I keep coming back to, Navy Blue is the perfect feature for this song. I spent many years grieving my childhood and the life that younger Meg Ivy could have had, but never got the chance of having. Chaos will do that to you. But, now I’m 26 and I somehow wish I could go back there. Not to the chaos. But, to little Meg. The little Meg that had no idea of what was to come, just happily obsessed with her red wellies and digging up the garden. Reading books with her Dad or drawing with her Mum. Playing with her baby sister and happily watching Tweenies in her Dad’s lap. Life was simple, wasn’t it? Or as simple as it could have been.

As I reached the end of the album, I came to the realisation (thanks to the track ‘don’t fix it’ featuring Nick Hakim) that sometimes you learn that you don’t need to fix everything or everyone. Some things are better left as they are, some relationships too. You can try and try, but ultimately, some things can’t be fixed and that’s okay. But this album reinforces that acceptance. It’s about understanding that while some things are beyond our control, acknowledging them is key. 

hopefully ! isn’t just an album about fatherhood, it’s about the relentless pursuit of self-improvement, the profound impact of unconditional love and the quiet courage it takes to look forward, knowing that the best lessons we can teach are often the ones we are still learning ourselves. It leaves you with a lingering sense of peace and quiet, something I often find myself searching for and a sense of optimism for the future. 

Knowledge, that as Loyle always says, we can take these words and go forwards. And forwards is where I’ll continue to go. Will you join me?

Written by: Meg Ivy Brunning