Howdy,

Thanks for ending up here.

I’m really proud to announce my new album, Flutter — my most personal collection of music to date and released in collaboration with Canadian label Moderna Records.

What began as some quiet tinkering at the piano back in 2023 gradually evolved into a fully fledged eight-track album, set for full release on the 20th March 2026.

In the past, music writing has often felt instinctive for me — something that simply presents itself at the piano without much thought into where it comes from. An idea usually appears through improvisation, and from there it grows.

With Flutter, things felt different. More deliberate. More considered. 

In 2023/24, I took a step back from music altogether. The whole process had started to feel a little stagnant — almost mechanical. Since taking my musical work seriously in 2019, I’d released over 200 pieces of music into the world. Everything from solo works, film and TV scores, licensing music, and everything in between. That doesn’t even account for the hundreds of unfinished ideas living on hard drives (music-makers will understand this one). Writing, recording, editing, mixing, mastering — it all began to take its toll. It felt like time for a breather.

At the same time, life accelerated and things got real quite quickly. Several of the key of moments you expect to be spread across a lifetime arrived all at once. We moved house twice. My partner lost both her best friend and her grandmother. I lost a childhood pet. And most difficult of all, I lost one of the most important and influential people in my life: my mum.

Once we finally settled into our new home and it was in a somewhat liveable condition, I revisited some old sketches I’d recorded at our previous place. From those early ideas, three pieces found their way onto the album in Afterlight, Flutter, and Shelter. The backbone of the album emerged, and paired with some other ideas I had, the project began to take shape.

As a whole, Flutter is made up of eight pieces that live somewhere in the realms between sorrow and joy. Each one is a reflection or moment from the past few years, translated into musical form. It plays on themes of loss, grief, the slow process of healing, and the occasional light that shows up when you’re not really looking for it.

The music doesn’t dwell in one emotional place for very long. It shifts gently, moving through subtle changes as opposed to big statements. Some ideas feel more unsettled, others feel more calm, and oftentimes those two states sit side by side. I wasn’t trying to arrive at a specific feeling — more to leave space for things to rise and fall naturally.

I also spent a lot of time thinking about how the piano should feel in these recordings. Each piece was approached as its own small sonic world, with a focus on warmth, clarity, and letting the instrument speak for itself. There’s very little there by design — mainly layers of piano, with just enough texture to support the instrument without getting in the way. In the end, the record became as much about the atmosphere created as it was about each melody.

If you’re still here, thank you. Letting people into this part of the process feels meaningful, and I’m deeply grateful to be able to do this work at all. Once the music is released, I feel like it’s no longer just mine — it lives wherever and however people choose to listen.

BHT x

I wish to thank all of those who helped make this record:

Évolène Lüthi & Nicolas Hyatt  - Thank you both for believing in my work and helping this album take shape. I’m grateful for each opportunity to work with you both.

Zino Mikorey - For lending your ears to the mastering of Flutter.

Paula Overbay - For creating such stunning visuals to accompany the record.

This album is dedicated to my mum.