Album Review – Wyatt Flores – “Scared of Heights”

Contemporary pop country (#530) and Red Dirt (#550.7) on the Country DDS.

Wyatt Flores is one of the most thoughtful, honest, expressive, and gripping songwriters of this new generation of Texas and Red Dirt performers, putting the roiled nature of post-pandemic, young adult life that’s full of emotional pitfalls and sometimes crippling self-doubt into songs that compel listeners of all ages, backed by a sound that is both grounded in the roots, but also untethered by them, and willing to push the music forward to places that feel fresh to today’s audiences.

But let’s just be open and clear-eyed about exactly what Scared of Heights is: This is the Wyatt Flores sellout record. That’s just the truth of the matter. Irrespective of how you feel about it or how you feel about Wyatt Flores in general, this dispassionate, on-paper assessment of the album is the one that most anyone would come to when looking at the credits, and listening to the results. The overall producer for the album is Charlie Handsome, who is most famous for working with artists like Drake, Kanye West, The Weeknd, Young Thug, Sam Hunt, and most recently, Morgan Wallen. Handsome was put on this project to get Wyatt Flores to the arena level, and ASAP.

In fact, Charlie Handsome is the guy that got admonished recently by Saving Country Music for saying he wanted to take Morgan Wallen even more pop than Wallen already is. Handsome is the guy in the Morgan Wallen camp trying to leverage Wallen’s pop exposure to the greatest extent. This is who they put in charge of the new album from your favorite up-and-coming Oklahoma songwriter.

You also have Gian Stone credited as “Producer, Vocal Producer, Programming Engineer,” among other roles. He’s famous for working with Marshmello, Maroon 5, Diplo, Miley Cyrus, Katy Perry, and the like. The third producer is Jacob Kasher Hindlin, known for working with Brittany Spears, Selena Gomez, Ariana Grade, and Lady Gaga. This is literally a Dream Team of heavy hitters of pop put into service behind a country artist. And all three of these producers abscond with songwriting credits on the majority of this album’s songs as they tend to do.

Does all of this mean that the ultimate result of Scared of Heights is a complete and utter sellout pop moment that is cringey and repulsive to anyone with any sense of taste who appreciates the roots of country throughout its 13 tracks? Thankfully, no it doesn’t, and for a host of reasons.

First off, Wyatt Flores was never a hard country crooner, or a ’90s country throwback to begin with. He was a songwriter who certainly had some twang and fiddle in his sound. But ever since his early career, Wyatt always worked in some more indie rock and even pop influences. He was a Red Dirt artist in the classic sense, meaning he pulled from a host in popular music influences. And so the transition here to what is still clearly a more pop approach both to the music and the songwriting doesn’t come across as abrupt as it might have with other performers.

Despite how terrible Scared of Heights might look if you simply stick your nose in the credits, the actual music is just not that bad, and definitely not overtly offensive. There’s also a couple of really great songs on the album that even if you throw the rest of it away, are worth salvaging. And whether it’s by accident, divine intervention, or just the sheer power of his voice and presence, the “Wyatt Flores” of the whole listening experience still comes through and keeps the album somewhat tolerable, even when the moments turn rather dull and formulaic.

Amid any criticism, it feels imperative to emphasize that the song “Half The Man” is an excellent musical work all the way around, and might be one of the best songs from the Wyatt Flores catalog, or even for the entire 2026 year so far. And irrespective of who wrote or played on it, the song is also incredible rootsy, if not outright country, while also coming across as palpably personal to Wyatt. It really encapsulates his very inward-looking, and often inferior-feeling persona that makes him and his music so endearing and relatable.

Another standout track on the album is the final song “Tulsa and Elanor,” which was clearly inspired by heartbreak, and really captures Wyatt’s passion and emotional upheaval in the moment. But after that, the balance of the album’s tracks are these bouncy, extremely produced, Nashville pop-style compositions with rising choruses and lyrics about young love in messy stages, optimized for passive listening with catchy rhythms and earworm callbacks that are barely country, if country at all.

The majority of these songs were formulated to slip right in between tracks from Wallen, Jelly Roll, and Russell Dickerson on a corporate country playlist. That’s the reason the rather forgettable 2:27-long “Running On E” has 8 million streams on Spotify, and “Half The Man” only has 1.8 at the time of this post. Make no mistake, this album will make money and get exposure. It has to. That’s what they paid for with production budgets and writing credits to these pop producers.

But the underlying question to all of this is, “Why?” Was this the formula that got Tyler Childers to arenas, the Turnpike Troubadours to headliner status, and has Zach Bryan selling out stadiums? Absolutely not. They did all that by being themselves, and not soliciting the help of the worst of coastal pop producers who’ve moved to Nashville recently to take advantage of lower property taxes and good public schools. Wyatt Flores runs a huge risk of alienating his grassroots fan base, and making the classic mistake of being the Texas/Oklahoma songwriter that goes to Nashville, and comes back with his tail between his legs.

And as harsh of an assessment as this might feel like, it’s not and uncommon or an unfair one. Country Central gave the album a pretty scathing 5.3—a full point behind their assessment of the new Shania Twain record, which despite its terrible pop production, still feels more personal that what Wyatt is putting out here. Again, listening through the record though, it just isn’t one that you feel offended by. It’s more the forgettable nature of it than some repulsive experience.

Wyatt Flores said ahead of the album, “I finally feel like I know who I’m supposed to be, right here in this moment. I’m not second-guessing myself anymore on what the music’s supposed to be, what I’m supposed to be chasing, or who I’ve become. This is who I am now in 2026. Still figuring out my struggles and mental health but finally getting the confidence to step back into this and to believe in myself again.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe this is who Wyatt Flores has always been, and he’s just now figuring it out. But it seems strange he’d be doing that with three producers, and an average of five songwriters on each track. That doesn’t feel very personal, or self-assured. That feels like leaning on others. Yet predict failure for Flores and Scared of Heights at your own risk. Charlie Handsome and Co. earn the money they make my ensuring songs are optimized for playlisting and radio play, and they’re damn good at it.

But is crossover acceptance really what you come to the music of Wyatt Flores for? We already have plenty of Morgan Wallens. We need more young, heartfelt songwriters with emotive lyrics like Wyatt Flores. You get the best of that with the song “Half The Man” from the new album. But unfortunately, for much of the rest of the album, you only get half of Wyatt Flores. The rest is layers of production, and synthesization and programming, which leads to a rather sanitized and unfulfilling experience, even if it skirts above the offensive.

Cool album art though, and the whole experience still leaves you rooting for Wyatt. But you’re a little scared to see where Scared of Heights takes him, high or low, good or bad.

6.7/10

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