The Ethereal Empress: Florence Welch's Journey From Bohemian Dreamer to Indie Rock Royalty Part 2

The Ethereal Empress: Florence Welch's Journey From Bohemian Dreamer to Indie Rock Royalty Part 2

Buckle: The Loneliness Embedded in Fame

Among Everybody Scream's 12 tracks, "Buckle" stands as one of the album's most poignant and introspective moments—a haunting meditation on isolation, intimacy, and the peculiar loneliness that accompanies a life lived in the spotlight.

Co-written with producers Aaron Dessner and Yusuke Miyawaki, "Buckle" showcases Welch at her most vulnerable. The song's title carries dual meaning: both as part of "witchy attire" (the shoes, the belts) and as the act of buckling under pressure—of bending without breaking beneath the weight of expectation and experience.

The track opens with sparse instrumentation, allowing Welch's powerful contralto to fill the sonic space with devastating intimacy. "A crowd of thousands came to see me/But you couldn't reply," she sings, capturing the profound disconnect between public adoration and private connection. It's a sentiment that speaks to the core paradox of her existence: performing for thousands who hang on her every word, yet unable to reach the one person whose response she craves.

"There's a sense of desperation to the song as she describes their love as something that cannot seem to work," notes one critic. The lyrics explore love that exists in the margins of a performer's life—relationships strained by constant touring, by the demands of art, by the impossibility of being fully present when part of you always belongs to the stage.

"'Buckle' extends this introspection, turning toward the loneliness embedded in fame itself," writes RIFF Magazine. It's a song about the extra sacrifices required to commit to a life of performance, about relationships that buckle under the pressure of ambition and calling. In conversations with Mitski while making the album, Welch discussed these very themes. Mitski reminded her that "the intimacy that that also brings you with performance, the intimacy that that brings you with work, is so extraordinary."

The production on "Buckle" is deliberately restrained compared to Florence + the Machine's typically expansive sound. Clocking in at 3 minutes and 23 seconds, the song feels like a confession whispered in the darkness, a moment of stillness amid the album's broader exploration of chaos and catharsis. Dessner's signature atmospheric production creates space for Welch's voice to convey years of accumulated emotion—the weariness, the longing, the acceptance that some things cannot be reconciled.

"There's the lack of real intimacy in relationships which serves as the centerpiece of 'Buckle,' a smart and profound song riddled with double meanings," notes one reviewer. The song acknowledges that the very qualities that make Welch an extraordinary artist—her emotional openness, her willingness to give everything onstage—can make traditional intimacy nearly impossible. How do you maintain a private relationship when you've built a career on public vulnerability?

For fans who have followed Welch's journey from the bohemian exuberance of Lungs to the mature introspection of Everybody Scream, "Buckle" represents a full-circle moment. The young woman who once performed barefoot in small London clubs, creating spellbooks and dreaming of magic, has evolved into an artist unafraid to examine the costs of her choices with clear-eyed honesty.

The Legacy Continues: An Artist on Her Own Terms

At 39 years old, Florence Welch has achieved something rare in the music industry: artistic integrity paired with commercial success, all while maintaining her sanity. "I never wanted to be more famous than this," she insists. "This is as much as I can handle."

She's won 24 awards out of 107 nominations, including Grammy nominations and Brit Awards. In 2023, Rolling Stone ranked her at number 128 on its list of the 200 Greatest Singers of All Time. Yet perhaps her greatest achievement is creating a body of work that remains defiantly herself—emotionally generous, mystically inclined, unafraid to grapple with themes of sex, violence, love, death, and transcendence.

"Be calm in your life so you can be wild in your work," has become her mantra. After getting sober, her life became quieter, which paradoxically allowed her artistic expression to become wilder. "I found that freedom from shame means that you can explore so many more different things in your work," she reflects.

Her style remains as distinctive as ever—flowing Gucci dresses, barefoot performances, a bohemian aesthetic Vogue describes as her "queen of Bohemian style" status. She draws from Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood aesthetics, describing her stage persona as "The Lady of Shalott meets Ophelia mixed with scary gothic bat lady."

Looking ahead, Welch feels optimistic. "I think that when I turn 40, I'm going to feel amazing," she predicts. "I really do." For someone who describes anxiety as "the constant hum of my life" until she steps onstage, this sense of peace is hard-won.

With Everybody Scream, Florence Welch has delivered her most personal and powerful statement yet—an album born from catastrophe, shaped by mysticism, and delivered with the raw honesty that has always defined her work. From "Buckle's" intimate examination of loneliness to the album's broader exploration of survival and transcendence, she proves once again why she remains one of the most vital voices in contemporary music.

The machine keeps turning, the songs keep coming, and Florence Welch—barefoot, powerful, uncompromising—continues to cast her spells.