A Psychedelic Daydream Wrapped in Glam-Era Innocence
On Sweet’s 1971 debut album Funny How Sweet Co-Co Can Be, “Honeysuckle Love” offers a kaleidoscopic glimpse into the band’s earliest creative impulses, long before their glam rock identity fully crystallized into the towering anthems of the mid seventies. The album itself made modest chart impressions across Europe, but it laid the groundwork for Sweet’s ascent, capturing their blend of bubblegum pop charm and the first hints of the heavier sound that would later define them. Nestled within that early palette, “Honeysuckle Love” stands out as one of the band’s most whimsical and imaginative pieces, a song that drifts with psychedelic sweetness while still carrying the melodic discipline that made Sweet so irresistible.
From its opening measures, the track feels like a warm breeze drifting through a technicolor meadow. The guitars shimmer rather than roar, bathing the melody in soft pastels. The rhythm section keeps a gentle pulse, allowing the song to float instead of drive. Over this dreamy foundation, Brian Connolly’s voice takes on an airy, almost enchanted tone, lending the lyrics an otherworldly glow. It is a performance shaped not by swagger but by curiosity, a willingness to explore textures and moods that hovered between bubblegum pop and late sixties psychedelic echoes.
Lyrically, “Honeysuckle Love” revels in imagery that feels both youthful and surreal. It captures the spirit of early seventies pop fantasy, where romance is less about confession and more about sensation, color, and atmosphere. The words drift like fragments of a dream, evoking the sweetness of infatuation without grounding it in concrete narrative. This loose, impressionistic style reflects an era when many pop groups were still absorbing the lingering aftershocks of psychedelia, blending innocence with a gentle sense of escape.
Within Funny How Sweet Co-Co Can Be, the song plays a crucial tonal role. While tracks like “Co-Co” drove the band’s early commercial presence, “Honeysuckle Love” reveals a different side of Sweet’s developmental story. It hints at their musical curiosity, their willingness to color outside the lines, and their instinct for melody even when experimenting with softer, more diffuse soundscapes. It is the sound of a band still in flux, sifting through influences as they build toward the harder hitting, glitter drenched identity that would soon bring them to international attention.
In retrospect, “Honeysuckle Love” endures not as a chart landmark but as a gem of early Sweet artistry. It captures a fleeting moment when the band’s music shimmered with innocent wonder, still unburdened by the bombast to come. The song remains a delicate reminder of how even the loudest, boldest bands often begin with a whisper, a dream, and a melody carried on a warm, drifting breeze.