South‑West London’s Slaney Bay have always had a knack for capturing the quiet moments — the glances, the hesitations, the emotional static that sits between two people who haven’t quite said the thing they’re both thinking. With their new single That’s Cool, the rising alt‑indie four‑piece lean even further into that intimate territory, bottling the fluttery uncertainty of a friendship that might be something more.
Listen to the track HERE
It’s a track built on soft tension: the brush of a hand, the too‑long eye contact, the way friends ask, “Is something happening between you two?” and you both laugh it off, even though your ears are burning. Slaney Bay frame that push‑and‑pull beautifully — not as melodrama, but as the kind of lived‑in, tactile queer experience that rarely gets the spotlight in indie music.
Slaney Bay — Cait Whitley (vocals), Joel Martin (bass), Will Nicola‑Thompson (guitar) and Jonny Burraway (drums) — have been quietly but confidently building momentum over the past few years. Their blend of introspective lyricism and shimmering, ear‑hook guitar lines has earned them early praise from Dork, Under The Radar, The Independent, Billboard and Rough Trade, plus spins from Jack Saunders (BBC Radio 1) and Steve Lamacq (BBC Radio 6 Music).
Their debut EP A Life Worth Living marked them as ones to watch, and by the time The Long Way Home arrived, the band were landing Radio X playlisting and popping up on Made in Chelsea. Live, they’ve shared stages with Coach Party, Bleach Lab, Sinéad O’Brien and The Clockworks, and sold out their own 250‑cap headline at Colours in London. They’ve also taken their sound across Europe, filling rooms at Left of the Dial (Rotterdam) and They’re Gonna Be Big (Paris), and even found themselves long‑listed for both Glastonbury and Isle of Wight Festival 2025.
This is a band on the cusp — not rushing, not forcing it, just steadily becoming the version of themselves they were always meant to be.
What makes That’s Cool land so deeply is its emotional specificity. It’s not a grand confession or a heartbreak anthem. It’s the moment before anything happens — the liminal space where friendship blurs into flirtation and neither person wants to be the first to break the spell.
The band describe it as “a flirty LGBT+ friendship… the subtle hand brushes that neither of you address… looking for each other in a crowded room.” That’s exactly how it feels: warm, nervous, electric. A song for anyone who’s ever wondered, Are we flirting or are we just friends?
Musically, it’s classic Slaney Bay — melodic, atmospheric, and quietly addictive. The kind of track that sneaks up on you, then refuses to leave your head.
With That’s Cool, Slaney Bay aren’t reinventing themselves — they’re refining what already makes them special. Their songwriting feels sharper, their emotional palette wider, their sense of identity more assured. It’s the sound of a band who know exactly where they’re heading, even if the characters in their songs don’t.
Slaney Bay are back, and they’re only getting better.
SOCIALS
