When British R&B trio FLO dropped their debut single “Cardboard Box,” a sugary sendoff to a cheating ex, they easily won over a pop audience desperate for an impeccable girl group that seemed to be having genuine fun. Singer-songwriters Stella Quaresma, Jorja Douglas, and Renée Downer met in 2019, after an Island A&R discovered them each from their Instagram cover songs. Despite being assembled in a somewhat old-fashioned way (through a male executive), they projected a distinct sense of identity from day one, having wisely spent three years perfecting their sound. “Cardboard Box” went viral in 2022, and two EPs full of punchy earworms followed, featuring smooth, soaring runs reminiscent of Brandy and harmonies that smush and melt like s’mores. FLO became the first group to win the BRIT’s Rising Star Award, performed at Coachella and Lollapalooza, and opened for Kehlani. Their rise speaks to an ongoing appetite for American-style girl groups, even as uber-polished K-pop and J-pop acts dominate the nostalgia-driven scene.
Fifth Harmony were the most recent U.S. girl group to resonate globally and did their best to refresh the surface-level girl power of the 2010s for a shrewd, selfie-loving generation. FLO is the next logical iteration of that ethos in a post-Lean In era. Their empowerment pop feels intuitive and true to the way many twentysomethings move through the world with a sense that boundaries are real and that agency and respect are self-evident. But if a girl group’s main job is to supply harmonies for days and kick out songs that roll around your head like marble, their debut album, Access All Areas, achieves it all with a decidedly R&B edge.
On AAA’s opening track, actor Cynthia Erivo drops in like a fairy godmother to introduce “a trio ready to receive the baton passed on by the likes of Destiny’s Child, Sugababes, SWV, and countless other iconic baddies of the past.” True to that legacy, FLO’s debut delivers a confident vision of what a modern girl group can be: tender, headstrong, and unified, with a clear point of view about resisting the urge to be jaded by the industry, relationships, and themselves. The album rolls from airy bedroom R&B to trap-tinged self-affirmations. Tracks like “Nocturnal,” a quintessential bravado anthem, layer curling harmonies with staccato delivery in a deliberate nod to Destiny’s Child, who, as FLO member Douglas puts it, were “as close to perfection as a girl group has ever seen.” Like the UK’s Little Mix before them, FLO see imitation as both flattery and a starting point for their own unique alchemy.
While many of their solo contemporaries understandably fixate on shady exes, FLO also lift up the good dudes. Explicitly starry-eyed tracks like the sweet, kinda crunk “Check”—which runs down an inventory of a partner’s desirable traits (“Is he faithful? Check…”) over sweaty trap 808s—and the doting “Bending My Rules” celebrate steady, dependable men. On lead single “Walk Like This,” with its stiletto-clicking beat, they sing about the aftershocks of great sex—wobbly knees and emotions—while the Dreamgirls-inspired title track, “AAA,” is a whispered invitation to foreplay over a suite of go-go snares and showy hi-hats. These songs might feel traditionalist in some ways, but FLO’s idea of partnership is reciprocal and well-earned. “If I give you everything, it better mean everything, not just anything,” they clarify on “AAA.” Later, they wonder, “How does it feel to know I could have anyone but you the one that I want?”
Just when the vibe starts to get too coddling, they balance it with a little venom, threatening to key cars on the cautionary tale “Caught Up,” a femme-fatale callback to the millennial aloofness of Blu Cantrell. This course correction happened intentionally in the midst of recording. Douglas told Dazed this past September, “We were able to see that we had four songs that were, like, ‘I love my man,’ and four songs that were [all] ‘I’m a Bad Bitch,’ but where were the songs about ourselves?” One of their self-love gems, “In My Bag,” features a bullish GloRilla guest verse and a speedy beat switch-up made for Peloton rides while FLO boast about being their own biggest fans: “What I got is manifested/I don’t even gotta try.” It’s an aspirational level of self-possession in the lineage of TLC. Even the icy breakup anthem “IWH2BMX” (“I Would Hate to Be My Ex”) exudes glow-up energy: “I’m a pop star like Rihanna,” they gloat.
What makes these songs particularly striking is FLO’s vocal chemistry and equity. Their primary collaborator, British producer-songwriter MNEK (whose credits include Beyoncé, Little Mix, Kylie Minogue, and Dua Lipa), keeps the group’s tones warm and precise as the album winds down to dreamier slow-burners like the pillowy “Soft” and “On and On,” a blushing ballad that feels like a soothing spa soak. As a collective, FLO and MNEK are keyed in on the exact sweet-and-salty frequency that makes a girl group pop. Impressively, none of these tracks feel like filler, and even some of the less immediate standouts take a charming or surprising turn, whether it’s the lush, slightly maudlin Dynasty-style strings on “Shoulda Woulda Coulda” or the rock-leaning closer “I’m Just a Girl,” a rallying cry about facing industry pushback. While out of place tonally and potentially polarizing (“This song ain’t for everybody,” they acknowledge at one point), it still shows FLO’s willingness to experiment.
Perfection isn’t just the goal for the average girl group—it’s gospel, and FLO are shamelessly invested. The quest isn’t literal, of course (nobody’s flawless), but about following the examples set by their forebears: clean vocals, tight harmonies, and choreography with something meaningful behind it. Quaresma told Teen Vogue, “I think we feel like we’re in good company with the girl groups that have come before because we know that we can work hard enough to be seen as one of them one day.” You can tell they’ve studied not just their influences’ lyrics, enunciations, and double-time flows but all the intangibles, too (they’ve sung on treadmills for practice like Destiny’s Child). And they’ve used that knowledge to craft a debut that’s neither overly formulaic nor purely decorative, one that comes from a youthful, self-actualized lens. Acesss All Areas makes a case that their pursuit of a more perfect union is within reach.
