It’s release day, and The Devil Wears Prada have officially opened the gates to their next chapter with Flowers — their ninth studio album and easily their boldest shift in years. If you’ve been online at all today, you’ll already know people are talking… a lot. And yeah, let’s be honest, not everyone is thrilled about the direction they’ve taken. But that’s Prada, isn’t it? Always evolving, always dividing opinions, and always refusing to remake the same record twice.
Flowers arrives in full today, all 14 tracks finally in one place, after fans have already spent the past few weeks dissecting a handful of early releases — including “Where the Flowers Never Grow,” “Wave,” “For You,” and more. Those previews painted a clear picture of a moodier, slower, more atmospheric direction, and now that the whole album is here, it’s obvious they weren’t outliers at all. They were the introduction to a record built on introspection, restraint, and emotional weight — even if that approach hasn’t connected with everyone.
Jeremy DePoyster has already explained the emotional roots behind the songwriting — especially that strange duality of bright, loud, all-eyes-on-you moments onstage followed by the quiet, messy, mental aftermath when the adrenaline fades. That line about “the place where flowers never grow” hits differently when you hear it in the context of the album. Flowers is full of those moments — raw honesty, uncomfortable truths, and a sense of searching that feels very human, even when wrapped in big riffs and cinematic production.
But of course, the sound has changed again. A lot. If you were expecting a return to Dead Throne or another Zombie-level punch to the throat, this album isn’t that. Prada have leaned heavily into mood, texture, and atmosphere. It’s emotional, massive in places, subtle in others, and shaped by two decades of growth. For some fans, it’s exciting. For others, it’s unfamiliar territory. And honestly? That’s okay. Bands don’t stay the same people for 20 years — neither do we.
What’s undeniable is how much care went into making this album. They wrote the core of it during a three-week creative lock-in in Arkansas, then flew back and forth to Los Angeles to refine it with some serious heavyweights — Tyler Smyth, Colin Brittain, Bobby Lynge, Marshall Gallagher, and mixing wizard Zakk Cervini. It’s polished, intentional, and built to take fans somewhere completely new whether they like the destination or not.
And while the sound continues to evolve, The Devil Wears Prada themselves are arguably in the strongest position of their career. Their single “For You” recently became their first-ever track to hit both the Mediabase and Billboard Active Rock charts. They packed out amphitheatres all summer on the Summer of Loud tour. And this winter, they’re about to step onto some of the biggest stages in the UK and Europe as support for Ice Nine Kills, alongside Creeper.
So yeah — Flowers might not be the Prada some fans expected today, but it’s definitely the Prada they are right now: older, sharper, more open, and still willing to take risks when it would be easier to play it safe. Whether you’re loving the new direction, unsure where you stand, or already halfway through a comment thread arguing about it… this album is going to get people talking all week.
Give it a spin, dive in fully, and decide for yourself. Love it or hate it, Flowers is a statement — and it’s officially here.
Every time The Devil Wears Prada announce a new record, there’s that buzz — that little jolt of “okay, what are they cooking now?” Because if there’s one thing this band never does, it’s stand still. So when Flowers dropped, we did what we always do: stuck it on, sat back, and waited for that familiar adrenaline hit. The riffs. The chaos. The emotion. The unexpected moments that make you go, “Yeah, that’s why I love this band.”
But… it didn’t really happen this time.
And look, we’ll say this clearly — the sound change isn’t the issue. Prada have switched things up so often it’s basically part of their DNA at this point. They’ve earned the right to experiment, reinvent, and try something new. We went in open-minded and ready for whatever direction they wanted to take.
The problem is much simpler: the songs just don’t land.
Flowers is beautifully recorded — genuinely, the production is spotless. Every texture, every layer, every vocal line is polished to perfection. You can hear the care behind it. You can hear how much time went into shaping the atmosphere. But what you can’t really hear is… power. Or urgency. Or anything that grabs you by the collar and makes you feel something.
Normally, we’d be doing a track-by-track first-listen deep dive. That’s our favourite way to experience a new release — letting each song hit us fresh and talking through the highs and chaos and surprises. But after a few tracks here, we realised something: there weren’t really any standout moments to pick apart. Nothing that made us pause and go, “Wait, play that again.” Nothing that punched through the mood and stuck.
It’s not bad. It’s not messy. It’s not a misfire in the sense of “what on earth were they thinking?” It’s just… boring. Safe. A little bland, even. Like the band had all the tools, all the production power, all the intention — but somehow lost the spark that usually makes their music feel alive.
There are glimpses of great ideas tucked into the record. A few lines hit hard. A few melodic moments give you a flash of the emotional depth they were aiming for. But they never rise above the grey. It’s an album full of songs that almost go somewhere but never really get there.
And that’s the frustrating part. We wanted to love this. We wanted to be blown away. We wanted that feeling Prada usually bring — that sense that they’re pushing themselves somewhere new with confidence and chaos. Instead, Flowers feels like watching a flower bloom behind glass: you can see the shape, you can appreciate the craft, but you just don’t feel the life in it.
This might still hit for some listeners. It might resonate differently with time or context. But on first impressions — and being totally honest — this one didn’t impress us. The direction isn’t the problem. The songwriting just isn’t it.
