If someone broke down music released during September 2023 onto a list (which we did, by the way), the words “Satellite Aphrodite - Mad Honey” would look and read the same as all the rest. Though of course, behind each name on that list is a story in and of itself — and for many, the name Mad Honey has risen to the top of lists of their own, potentially with names like “up-and-coming bands to watch for” or “favorites out of Oklahoma.”

Though It’s not always easy to get to know an artist, especially a band - who they are, what they’re about. Listener counts don’t tell you if an artist can engage you, nor do social media followers fully indicate the potential value or substance one can deliver; images, videos, and appearances can all be misleading; the list goes on.

One thing that (usually) won’t steer you wrong is your ears - which is why we are music-focused at CLM - and to that end, many people, myself included, still consider the album to be one of the most effective tools for defining a musical artist.

During the Satellite Aphrodite album release show at the Resonant Head on Sep. 22, which I attended, one of the members of Mad Honey stated reflectively that they’ve “been a band for five years.” In that time, the five-piece from OKC has cultivated a passionate audience within and beyond their home state border, supplying an intoxicating sound that has spread through the underground, leaving impressions on listeners that linger like, well, honey.

Tours, label deals, and millions of streams later, they’ve released their first album — and for a band that is already so storied, it might seem limiting to call it “defining.”

If it is not numbers or appearances that define an artist, is it the fans? Because for many Mad Honey fans, the sound of this first album might seem quite a departure from that of their singles, which numbered seven before its release.

Originally, it was their mix of melancholic rock and dance floor era pop that had earned them acclaim, particularly on their second single “Blue & You”, their 2019 breakout which is currently nearing 3 millions streams on Spotify alone.

Those are the kind of numbers that ‘local’ bands dream of. Those are the kind of numbers that get you comments like “I wish you still made stuff like this” years later. Those are the kind of numbers that make artists change… or get stuck in their ways.

But despite the success of that song, Mad Honey would put out just one more in the year following - then two more in 2021 - stepping gradually into new sonic territory; slowly but surely, developing something.

The first glimpse of those developments came in early 2022, alongside their joining of San Antonio based independent record label Sunday Drive Records, with the double track “Odds B/W Euphoria”. These two singles featured heavier drums and atmospheric layering than before, as well as more focused songwriting and production.

While the through-lines were certainly there - melancholic rock elements, grainy texturing, and the same sweet, sticky vocal tones - it was a long way from the lighter and more aesthetic pop that Mad Honey first presented; the sound that some fans, at that time, might say defined them.

Sometimes to do something new, you have to leave something behind — leave a style or convention that has given you success, to pursue one that will give you actualization. That does not take anything away from past achievements.

Though just as we all have shuddered at the person we were a few years ago, indeed Mad Honey has matured, and examining the time and transformations between each output shows a group that has been taking the time to find themselves — not just how they want to sound, but who they want to be. Alas it is not the fans, nor a type of sound, nor the numbers on any page that define an artist; it is the artist that must define themself.

At eleven tracks and a near 40 minute runtime, Mad Honey has presented their clearest and most complete definition of themselves to date on Satellite Aphrodite. Settling somewhere between dream-pop and shoegaze, their sound on this album is larger than ever - more refined in both the tone and dynamic choices - yet balances any bravado with vulnerability, and maintains a strong thread of intimacy across the sonic distance.

Surprisingly, despite the weightier palette in play (particularly around its promotional singles), there are many minimal moments throughout the runtime; some reflective and dreamy, some straight-up somber. The opener “Tuff’s Last Stand” is the former, starting with gently strummed acoustic guitar that feels like it’s reflecting inside of your own head.

Vocalist Tiff Sutcliffe’s stark lyrics and keen vocal phrasing combine with a harmonic layering that by now has become her signature, resulting in mesmerizing moments like the final chorus: “What’s with desire? / All this making it mine / I thought there was time / I never had much mind.”

The smooth violet haze and blurry textures on the cover art are not only a good visual characterization of the sonic nature of the album, but the depiction also hints at the themes found within, as well as the context surrounding its creation.

We established that it is an artist that must define themselves, but what comes after a definition? The expectation to live up to it. Being signed to a label and having thousands of listeners and followers  — sounds great to some, sure, but it also brings pressure. Between their (by industry standards) sparse release schedule and reasonable but broad shifts in sound, it’s hard to imagine Mad Honey didn’t feel that pressure.

Again examining the cover, we see Tiff pictured, but an unrealized version, flipped and somehow distorted; unsure, features obscured. Not wanting to define herself - think back to that final line of the opening track’s chorus “I never had much mind” - or perhaps not wanting to be defined, nevertheless subjecting herself to the process. 

If the opening song was their ‘last stand’ against the pressure of definition, or maybe against their own resistance to it, the second track sees Mad Honey letting go of that weight in an attempt to fully embrace who they are in this moment — only to find that it’s “heavier still.” The downbeat falls with the full weight of this realization, as suddenly the song roars to life with massive drums and well-spaced reverb swirling around its lush, coarse chords; elements that comprise much of the sonic foundation moving forward.

On “Heavier Still” Mad Honey questions if they’re “exactly where [they’re] meant to be,” in its cerebral verses, before each refrain explodes with the underlying desperation of this yet unsuccessful search. Nowhere are these themes of a search for identity (or the freedom from it) distilled more distinctly on the record than this track and the one proceeding it, which enters with a similar initial impact.

“Fold” (the first promotional single) may be the best solid bridge between present and past Mad Honey, maintaining its poppy flavor amidst being swallowed by the psychedelia — “drifting in and out of focus,” much like the band, or rather the image of them, has over the years.

A less common definition of satellite as an adjective reads “something that is separated from or on the periphery of something else but is nevertheless dependent on or controlled by it.” Satellite Aphrodite is heavily infused with themes of identity - specifically a sort of separation from it - and though we’ve focused much on the artistic aspect, there is an even more personal influencer of identity.

Love: for someone else, for oneself, even for their art — just as one is changed, or lost, we may be as well. One of the aforementioned somber moments, the brooding “Larkspur” speaks to such a loss, and the consequent grief and confusion.

Its relatively bare arrangement and rhythms emphasize further the disjointed feeling of this grieving depicted in the lyrics, while its slower, deliberate tempo and full band hits drive the refrains, which end with the simple but haunting phrase, “loved you.” Lashing out with a brief but powerful instrumental, the final note of the electric guitar melody holds and slowly simmers out, as the shortest track on the album gives way to the longest.

“Eileen” is brisk and eery, a windy night where “in a moment all was lost”; chorused guitars slow-picking over distant minor chords, punchy rock drums, and shimmering processing, all forming one of Mad Honey’s densest and most alternative soundscapes yet. Furthermore, the subject matter and sonic weight of this track center it as a thematic focal point of the album.

The track “E.T.Y.N.” brings some relief for us to “drink it in” at the midway - its tonalities much brighter over its calm, swaying tempo - though it can be but a bittersweetness, because we hear, as on the previous song, there is still something hanging over Mad Honey: a “shadow” in “the apartment” (Eileen) that “haunt[s] your nights” (E.T.Y.N.).

Though after those dark nights, in spite of the confusion, they seem to have rekindled a cautious optimism, as the refrains echo, “love is here / so keep me guessing.” Thus Mad Honey, these “angels on the run”, carry this momentum into the next track “r u feeling it?” A brief but sweet track, in fact, maybe the lightest on the album; its instrumental crunched and sugary while the vocals nestled overtop are so ethereal as to feel almost delicate in their determination to “take [their] second chance.”

“Psycho” bears both musical and lyrical resemblance to “Eileen”, with another mention of a figure or entity “upstairs”, who’s been “looking down” (Eileen) and from that position has “a clear advantage” (Psycho). This produces a similarly eery effect as the airy vocal and guitar intro slowly climb toward their catharsis, stacking drums and layers of instrumentation to support, only to collapse again after each effort with an increasing feeling of futility: “figured I’d take a chance / on nothing.”

Much like defining an artist brings the pressure of expectation, defining love also brings with it expectations, though perhaps of another kind; for all their “hanging on” - wrestling with these crisis of identity, of love -  Mad Honey is left wondering if their expectations were misplaced, feeling as if their optimism was betrayed: “well, what a waste / it’s still the same.”

It is here that these questions of identity have led - but also perhaps the point where some originated - the lowest point sonically, and emotionally, on Satellite Aphrodite. “Kamakura” is a rainy acoustic ballad that floats forward with a beautiful but hollowed-out emotion, as vocalist Tiff softly sings, “Gather to remember / the temple of my body / from whence it came a violence / tossed on waves - in silence.”

Often our identity can be affected by people or situations outside our control, causing us to feel separated from ourselves, our agency; the dissonant longing that things were different, the tinges of regret summated: “when I empty this vessel / I’ll feel holier somehow.” Sometimes it takes such a reset - an “empty[ing]” of our own “vessel” - to make room for clarity and find our way “out of the darkness.”

It would be simple to say that Mad Honey had their reset, and found “their sound” or themselves along the way; really, they may have simply found who they don’t want to be. This growth is affirmed on the penultimate track.

“Concentration” is a jolt to the system with its quicker pace and thicker palette, fueled by grooving drum and bass under its looping guitar patterns until the chorus erupts decidedly: “I won’t take it back now / I wouldn’t do it again.” The gritty tone of the second promotional single takes on a new weight when placed in its sequence, almost defiant in the face of anyone would assert their own definition upon them — the “leeches in the lakes”, the condescension from, and toward, those who “think [they] ‘know’.”

By this album one thing has been made clear: Mad Honey is determined not to be defined by anyone but themselves.

Yet after all this, though they have succeeded in defining themselves - made it to the other side more matured, more realized - there seems to be no finish line celebration, no final interview, or feeling of closure; as at the end of a journey when one finally returns home, only for it to appear quaint and partial.

The title and final track is stripped and droning, fading gently in and out as if trying to exist in time it no longer has. Drowning in its own introspection, the instrumental expands with one last breath while Tiff sings knowingly: “we’re at the end of something / wasn’t so hard to find / can we hold on to nothing / found that I need a guide.”

The search for identity is never-ending. In their own, Mad Honey has learned about love, loss, and change, and after a necessary period of development, rendered a compelling and vivid image of themselves on their first album Satellite Aprhrodite.

Roundup Rundown features standout singles, EP’s, or albums from the latest edition of Release Roundup - CLM’s monthly catalogue covering music in and around Oklahoma. Selections and writing by Roundup curator David Joachims.

Go here for the full list of releases from September 2023.