ryan john clary's 'Sunflower Lemonaide' finds light after the fall

ryan john clary has never sounded more certain of who he is. On 'Sunflower Lemonaide', the Boston-based songwriter delivers a nine-song statement that feels raw at times, reflective at others, but always searching for forward motion.

Entirely crafted by clary himself, the album draws from a wide musical vocabulary. There’s the intimacy of acoustic storytelling, the rhythmic backbone of someone raised on beats and bars, and flashes of alt-pop sheen that give the record a contemporary edge. Yet none of it feels stitched together for effect. It flows naturally from an artist who has spent years absorbing different corners of music and finally allowing them to coexist in one space.

Early standouts like 'Try' and 'Luck’n Trust Me' confront personal responsibility with unflinching honesty, as his voice carries a weight that suggests these songs weren’t written quickly or lightly. There’s a sense of reckoning embedded in the phrasing, as if each lyric has been carefully considered before being released into the open.

As the album unfolds, a shift begins to unfurl. 'Dresses Like Elvis' offers a subtle brightness, hinting at self-acceptance without glossing over the scars. While 'A World Without You' feels expansive, almost cinematic in its emotional scope.

What makes 'Sunflower Lemonaide' particularly compelling is its emotional arc. clary’s past, marked by addiction, fear, and rebuilding, remains part of the story. You can hear the work it took to stand in front of these memories and turn them into music, and the result is an album that lives in the shadow of quiet resilience, song by song.