With the arrival of Pleasure, released on May 2, 2025, Young Gun Silver Fox invite listeners to roll the windows down, lean into the breeze, and let the funk-laced sunshine flood in. This isn’t just another album — it’s a lush, analog-soaked escape hatch from modern chaos. The transatlantic duo, composed of UK soul maverick Andy Platts and Kansas-born sonic wizard Shawn Lee, have crafted a love letter to the golden age of groove — a silky blend of soul-pop, yacht rock, and California cool that feels as nostalgic as it is necessary.
Known for their impeccable musicianship and uncanny ability to reanimate the sounds of the ’70s without sounding like a tribute act, Young Gun Silver Fox level up on Pleasure. It’s their fifth studio album and their first with Los Angeles indie label Blue Élan Records — a new chapter that sees the duo shedding long-distance file trading in favor of true in-the-room chemistry. The result? Ten tracks of head-nodding, heart-lifting retro soul that radiate the warmth of human connection and analog spontaneity.
Opening with “Stevie & Sly,” a slinky, groove-rich homage to two of funk and soul’s most enduring legends, the album wastes no time establishing its mission: to make you move, smile, and feel. That track, born from an off-the-cuff jam at Andy’s Norfolk studio, is a microcosm of the album’s ethos — spontaneous, joyful, and soaked in soul. It’s a reminder that sometimes the best songs don’t come from overthinking, but from letting go and letting the groove take the wheel.
The album continues its velvet cruise through different shades of soul with “Kids,” a warm-blooded anthem of youthful wonder, and “Baby Girl,” a breezy slice of AOR perfection that could sit comfortably on a mix with Boz Scaggs or Michael McDonald. “Burning Daylight” turns up the intensity, riding a syncopated rhythm that burns with quiet urgency, while “You Can Feel It” is all velvet harmonies and hypnotic basslines — a slow-jam with a quiet storm attitude.
One of the standout moments is “Late Night Last Train,” a moody, midnight masterpiece where Andy’s featherlight falsetto drifts over Shawn’s shimmering instrumentation like headlights on rain-slicked pavement. It’s the kind of song that evokes motion — emotional or physical — and makes you want to disappear into the night with nothing but possibility ahead.
Then comes “Mojo Rising,” a track that practically demands to be played with the top down. Equal parts swagger and sizzle, it’s a strut down Sunset Boulevard in song form. “Born To Dream,” another highlight, leans into doo-wop nostalgia with a hopeful message that refuses to give in to cynicism. “Rolling Back” and “Kingston Boogie” round out the experience with infectious, danceable energy and steel-drum-laced sophistication, respectively — proving that while Pleasure is rooted in the past, it’s never content to simply recycle it.
If the album feels unusually cohesive, it’s no accident. For the first time, Andy and Shawn were able to write and record most of it in person — trading musical ideas like old friends passing a bottle of something smooth. That tactile, lived-in energy bleeds into every note, every harmony, every layered horn arrangement. It’s a groove you can trust because it comes from a place of genuine joy.
But more than just technical finesse, Pleasure taps into something deeper. There’s a sense of emotional clarity here — a reminder that happiness doesn’t have to be flashy to be powerful. It can be found in a falsetto harmony, a warm Rhodes chord, or the gentle tug of a bassline that knows exactly where it’s going. It’s an album that invites listeners not just to hear the music, but to feel it — in their bones, their hips, and their hearts.
Young Gun Silver Fox have built a formidable discography since their 2015 debut West End Coast, and with Pleasure, they reaffirm what fans across Europe, the UK, and now the U.S. have long known: they’re the undisputed masters of modern retro soul. Their music doesn’t just sound like the past — it feels like home. And in an era dominated by algorithmic sameness, that’s more revolutionary than ever.
So plug in, press play, and surrender to the vibe. Pleasure is more than an album — it’s an invitation to dance your way back to joy.
