CMF: Matthew Followill's Solo Debut Is Cinematic, Atmospheric and Entirely His Own
from the Noise
There is something fascinating about artists stepping away from the thing the world knows them for most. Not reinvention exactly, but expansion. The quiet revelation that exists when someone who has spent decades inside stadiums, noise, adrenaline and expectation suddenly turns inward. That is what makes CMF, the new solo project from Matthew Followill, feel genuinely different.
Best known as the lead guitarist and founding member of Kings of Leon, Followill has spent years helping define one of the biggest rock bands of the 21st century. Arena tours, Grammy wins, festival headlines. The scale of it almost makes it easy to forget the quieter reality of being a musician constantly in motion. Airports. Hotel rooms. Long stretches of waiting. Strange cities at night. The psychological drift that happens between performances.
"Not the arena guitarist commanding massive crowds, but the observer. The collector of textures."
Leila AntaklyReleased through Saesori Sounds, the twenty-six-track project moves far away from conventional rock structures and into something far more atmospheric, meditative and exploratory. Ambient passages blur into folktronica textures, hypnotic synthesizer loops dissolve into washed-out guitar improvisations, while cinematic drones and fractured rhythms create the feeling of music designed less for performance than for immersion.
What makes the album compelling is not simply that it is different from Kings of Leon. Plenty of musicians develop side projects. What stands out here is how unforced the experimentation feels. There is no obvious attempt to chase trends or reinvent identity. Instead, the record feels deeply personal, almost like a private archive of moods, sketches and sonic memories collected while moving through different countries, time zones and emotional states over many years.
Kosmische Musik is an experimental electronic music genre that emerged in West Germany in the late 1960s and early 1970s, closely tied to the Krautrock scene. It is characterised by synthesizers, sequencers, and electronic instruments used to create expansive, ambient soundscapes evoking space, otherworldliness, and cosmic exploration. The influence of Tangerine Dream, Klaus Schulze, and early Cluster runs through this album's most meditative passages.
There are moments throughout the record that feel indebted to kosmische music, ambient pioneers, psychedelic folk experimentation and fragments of film score composition. The album succeeds because it understands atmosphere emotionally. Perhaps the most surprising element is how cinematic the entire experience feels. Not cinematic in the Hollywood sense, but in the way certain cities feel at 3AM through the window of a moving car. Grainy. Dreamlike. Slightly detached from reality.
"The idea for making this music came from the joy of creating and experimenting with everything I've collected over the years. I wanted it to reflect what I gravitate to as a listener: organic instrumentation blending with ambient textures. It's personal and instinctive, inspired by long days on the road where time loses meaning and the world feels cinematic, atmospheric and immersive."
That feeling of suspended time runs through the entire album. And perhaps that is ultimately what makes If We're Apart, I'm Somewhere Missing You resonate. It feels like music made without algorithmic pressure, without obvious commercial expectation, without the need to constantly announce itself. It simply exists in its own atmosphere. Which today feels increasingly rare.
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