Arlo Parks - Anais Marinho - makes music that feels like a conversation with a close friend. Collapsed in Sunbeams won the Mercury Prize in 2021, and for good reason: it was tender, literary and unafraid to talk about mental health, queer love and the small moments that define growing up.
West London-born, Paris-raised for a time, Parks draws on poetry, indie and R&B. "Black Dog" became an anthem for anyone who's ever tried to help a friend through depression; "Eugene" and "Hurt" showed she could write hooks without shouting. Her second album, My Soft Machine, pushed the sound further - more electronic, more expansive - while keeping the same emotional honesty.
Collapsed in Sunbeams and the Mercury win
Arlo Parks had been building a following for years before the debut album. EPs and early singles like "Cola" and "Eugene" introduced a sound that was soft but precise: indie guitars, R&B grooves and lyrics that read like poetry. When Collapsed in Sunbeams arrived in 2021, it landed at the right moment. The world was still processing a difficult period; Parks' music offered warmth, empathy and a sense that it was okay to feel things deeply. "Black Dog" - a song about supporting a friend through depression - became one of the most shared tracks of the year. It was tender without being sentimental, and it spoke to a generation that had grown up talking about mental health more openly than any before.
The Mercury Prize win was a validation of that approach. The album wasn't the loudest or the most commercial nominee; it was the one that felt the most complete, the most honest and the most necessary. Parks used the moment to thank her team, her fans and everyone who'd ever felt like they didn't fit. The speech was as gentle as the music - and just as powerful.
My Soft Machine and beyond
The second album, My Soft Machine, could have been a repeat. Instead, Parks pushed the sound in new directions. The production was bigger: more electronic, more layered, with contributions from Paul Epworth and others. Tracks like "Blades" and "Devotion" kept the emotional core but added new textures. The record was still introvert pop - still quiet, still intimate - but it had learned to fill a room. The live show has grown with it: Parks now headlines arenas and festivals, and the songs translate to scale without losing their tenderness.
What hasn't changed is the lyrical focus. Parks still writes about love, loss, identity and the small moments that define us. She's spoken about her own experiences with mental health, about queer love and about the complexity of growing up in the public eye. That honesty has built a connection with fans that goes beyond the music - and it's why the next album will be one of the most anticipated in British pop.
Quiet can still win
In a landscape of maximalist pop and drill, Arlo Parks is proof that quiet can still win. She didn't have to shout to be heard; she just had to write songs that mattered. The next generation of British songwriters is already taking notes - and the lesson is that the best music often comes from the softest voices.