Bonneville returns this summer with Flying Machine, the band’s second full-length album. Having made a name for their brand of retro-soul driven, R&B nostalgia with contemporary textures, the nine-track album shows a clear sense of direction for a band that continues to define its identity in the growing space between homage and modern commercial flair.
The album’s opener and lead single, ‘Undercover Woman’, offers a confident start. Anchored in a mellow groove and a narrative about emotional pursuit and payoff, the track is warmly produced and genuinely fun. It’s not revolutionary, but it doesn’t need to be—it captures the spirit of old-school R&B with enough spark to keep listeners engaged.
Where Bonneville takes a more ambitious turn is with ‘Boogeyman’, a funk-heavy protest track that channels Curtis Mayfield’s social edge through a modern lens. With its high-octane horn section, a sharp harmonica intro from Mickey Raphael, and a gritty groove, the song delivers both musically and thematically, though its message about media distraction, while timely, veers toward familiar territory.
The band’s efforts to push boundaries are most evident on ‘Beautiful One’, a slick, acid jazz-leaning track that leans into house and post-disco. It’s a departure from their more vintage sound, and for the most part, the experiment works. The production is polished and the groove infectious, even if the critique of selfie culture feels a bit on the nose. Still, the irony built into the upbeat sound and darker lyrical subtext gives the song an interesting edge.
Instrumental standout ‘The Chase’ puts the band’s musicianship front and centre. Inspired by ‘70s urban crime thrillers, the track’s cinematic flair is hard to miss. It’s fun, fast, and full of texture—showcasing that Bonneville is more than just retro enthusiasts; they’re capable arrangers, too.
‘Lady of the Tennessee’, one of the album’s more introspective cuts, returns to Southern roots with a reverence for place and myth. It’s earnest and atmospheric, if a bit derivative of Southern rock classics. Still, its sincerity carries it, and the band’s connection to Muscle Shoals—the album’s recording home—feels genuine, not manufactured.
The title track, ‘Flying Machine’, closes the album with an air of lightness and optimism. It’s a dreamy blend of synths, funk rhythm, and soul melody, capturing the childlike wonder that inspired it. While not as impactful as some of the earlier tracks, it serves as a fitting bookend—an emblem of Bonneville’s central theme: the desire to rise, reflect, and reclaim a soulful sense of self.
Flying Machine won’t reinvent the wheel, but it doesn’t need to. Bonneville isn’t here to lead a movement—they’re here to honor a legacy and add their own page to the story. The album wears its influences proudly, perhaps too proudly at times, but it also takes real steps toward carving a distinct voice. There are moments of true creativity and craftsmanship, balanced with occasional lapses into safe territory.
Ultimately, Flying Machine is a solid, well-produced record from a band that knows where it comes from and is starting to figure out where it wants to go. For fans of classic soul, funk, and Southern groove with a modern twist, Bonneville’s latest effort offers a warm and thoughtful listen, even if it occasionally plays things a bit too safe.
