“The Great Traitor” Is No Windows’ Sonic Coming-of-Age Capsule
Photo: Rosie Sco
With “The Great Traitor,” Edinburgh duo No Windows take their most ambitious leap yet — emotionally, sonically, and spiritually. The six-track EP transforms the band’s atmospheric indie pop into something more lush, sentimentally nuanced, and cinematically expansive, drawing on the soft psychedelia of ’70s chamber pop and dreamlike textures of Jon Brion’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind score.
Multi-instrumentalist Morgan Morris and lyricist Verity Slangen began shaping their sonic identity during the isolation of the pandemic, influenced by the fuzzy warmth of Duster-inspired slowcore and the lo-fi intimacy of artists like Fiona Apple and Big Thief. Building on the atmospheric indie pop aesthetic of their debut “Fishboy” (2022), as well as themes of isolation and alienation explored in “Point Nemo” (2024), “The Great Traitor” marks a pivotal transition for No Windows from DIY bedroom recordings to full studio production. The result is not just a sonic evolution — it’s a coming-of-age capsule.
“The Great Traitor” builds on No Windows’ lo-fi bedroom pop roots by layering richer textures: trumpet flourishes, intricate harmonies, and warbly piano tones that echo like distant memories. While the EP showcases a more mature sonic landscape, it still carries the raw energy of youth. For both Verity and Morris, 2024 “felt like the transition from adolescence to adulthood” — a theme that resonates through the EP’s nostalgic core.
The EP’s lead single, “Return,” is a slow-burning blend of 90s alt-rock and earthy indie folk, written from Verity’s perspective at 16, grappling with her autism and the constant feeling of not fitting in at school. “[The song] feels quite angry,” she reflects. Contrasting dark and distorted with bright and delicate, Verity sings with a bold, newfound self-assurance: "I can’t fit into your space / Mould me into the girl you want to see.”
"Sugarcoat" ventures into a somber, mellow space, with Verity processing heartbreak and the end of a relationship. The track’s relaxed guitar strums and laid-back beats gradually intensify, exploding into a surge of heavy chords and rhythmically driven drums.
“Brown Bear” and “Tricky,” both written in a single evening in December of 2023, delve into the uncertainty of developing feelings for someone new. Amidst gentle pastoral acoustic, touches of dissonance muddy the harmonies, symbolizing this lack of clarity while offering a subtle nod to Jeff Buckley’s musical style. “This person had just left my flat, and I was like, oh my God, I think I'm falling in love. I listened to the demos and wrote those two songs in literally half an hour,” Verity remembers. “We broke up a few weeks later, but it's very sweet to me. It's nice to look back on how I felt about that person without it being tinged by time.”
Blurring the lines between dreams and reality, tracks like “Old Chain Pier” use intentional instrumental distortion to mimic nostalgia and hazy memories. Emerging from this fog, the EP concludes with a sense of clarity. The closing track “Easter Island,” is an intimate acoustic duet that captures the duo’s deepening creative relationship. “Usually it’s just me pretending to be Brian Wilson and stacking [harmonies] in my room, so it felt good singing together. It sounds very immediate,” Morgan says.
"The Great Traitor" offers listeners a rare, poignant glimpse into No Windows’ coming-of-age journey and evolution, both musically and emotionally. It strikes a balance between intimacy and boldness, creating a sonic time capsule that reflects the aches and awe of early adulthood. “I think ‘The Great Traitor’ sounds like a snapshot in time,” Verity reflects. “A picture, almost, of how we were in that moment.”
