8/10

With his newest collection 'Equinox', London’s Charlie J Perry, better known as Common Saints, offers an atmosphere you can inhabit. Known for weaving magic behind the boards with major artists across genres, Perry steps forward here as a singular voice, fully realised and remarkably intimate.

This EP shimmers with a kind of twilight energy, that electric hush when the day hands over to night. 'Honey' drip with understated sensuality, its grooves slow-burning like the last embers of a summer bonfire. While the opener 'Firebird' pulses with restless yearning, moving as if chasing after something just out of sight.

But what sets 'Equinox' apart is Perry’s fearless exploration of vulnerability. Every breathy falsetto, every immersive synth texture, feels carved straight from lived experience. You can sense the grief, the growth, and the tender alchemy that turns pain into something radiant.

Earlier work like 'Cinema 3000' leaned into cosmic escapism, but 'Equinox' feels planted firmly in the soil; haunted by real-life loss and illuminated by genuine self-discovery. The production is spacious yet intimate, allowing each detail to breathe naturally. It’s the sound of an artist turning inward, finding meaning in the quiet corners, and then inviting us in.

Ultimately, 'Equinox' is an invitation to hover in the liminal, and to embrace the push and pull of conflicting emotions. It’s music for those moments when you find yourself between who you were and who you’re becoming. In that space, Common Saints offers a quiet, glowing guide forward, and it’s utterly captivating.