If indie music was a pub quiz, Freight would be that unexpectedly great team who arrive late, still triumph, and then chat all the bar staff up afterwards. Originating from Warrington, a location which obviously sprinkles magic dust in the tap water, the band have swaggered on the scene with their second single, "The Only Thing I Know." And believe me, by the time you reach that chorus, you'll feel like you've known it all your life.
From the very beginning, this track buzzes with that inimitable "festival sunset" vibe. Imagine this: a balmy summer evening, paper cups clutched in hand, and thousands of voices singing out a chorus so uncomplicated and euphoric that it could bring together sworn enemies of opposing football teams. That's the sort of magic Freight have achieved here. It's jangly guitars and carefree swagger covered in a melody that doesn't just welcome you in, it takes you by the collar and yells, "Come on, sing this with us!'
Luka Gunes, chief and lead purveyor of indie optimism, sings like a man who's spent his entire life practicing headline sets in front of his bedroom mirror since the age of seven. His voice isn't trying too hard to be great, it's laid-back, happy, and just sufficiently cheeky. There's a warmth there, the kind of tone that makes you think he could break out into song in a queue at the chippy and no one would complain.
And oh, that chorus. It's only simple on purpose, a hook masquerading as a mantra: "The only thing I know…" It's an earworm, the kind you want, the kind that will have you humming in Tesco, appearing to serenade the frozen peas. Freight knows they're doing this on purpose. It's the kind of stuff indie anthems are made of: short, sharp, and sweet enough to make your Spotify playlist feel like a summer afternoon, even in drizzle in the middle of November. Instrumentally, the band remains tight without sacrificing the appeal of a group of friends jamming in a garage. The guitars jangle as if they've been tuned by the sun itself, dancing in and out of one another like considerate but excited partners.
The rhythm section gets it done with a smile, solid, pushy, never attempting to upstage anyone, just moving the entire affair along like a train that knows where it's headed (and likely has a spare carriage available for an impromptu session). Influences, naturally, because Freight obviously cut its teeth on a diet of the indie heroes. There's a bit of Lathums innocence, an early Arctic Monkeys swagger sprinkled on, and the group spirit of Courteeners. It's familiar, it's true, but in the warm sense that your favorite hoodie is familiar. The risk of this equation, naturally, is slipping into the "safe zone." And to be fair, "The Only Thing I Know" doesn't turn the wheel—it doesn't even attempt to. But does it have to? Not likely. Sometimes you just want a song that tastes like friendship bottled and poured over the span of four minutes.
And that's just what Freight delivers.
What actually makes the entire package, however, is the atmosphere, the chemistry. You can hear that these boys have been working hard. The sheen on display here is the result of a band who've toured hard, absorbing that live energy and injecting it into their time in the studio. That gig-season tautness permeates every note, every strum, every snare crack. They sound like a band who just really love playing together, and that is infectious. So, where does this leave us? With a song that’s destined for backseat singalongs, sticky dance floors, and summer playlists everywhere. It’s a track that feels like a handshake, a friendly introduction that says, “Hi, we’re Freight. Stick around, it’s going to be fun.” And if this is just the second single from their debut EP “Kaleidoscope,” then buckle up.
Because if they can add a little more danger, a little more poetical edge, to this formula, Freight won't be the band you walked in on, they'll be the band you talk about having found first. In the meantime, "The Only Thing I Know" is the ideal indie comfort fare: toasty, unobtrusive, and not lovable enough. Play it loud, sing it proud, and let Warrington's newest export remind us why we loved indie in the first place.