June

At its core, "June" is a song about finding solidarity, love, and connection in the aftermath of a collective tragedy. The song serves as the opening track of Florence + The Machine's fourth studio album, High as Hope, and sets a thematic tone of vulnerability and emotional survival. The lyrics are heavily inspired by the Pulse nightclub shooting that occurred on June 12, 2016, in Orlando, Florida, during Pride month. By describing how "love became an act of defiance," Florence Welch highlights how the LGBTQ+ community and their allies were forced to turn their inherent identities and affections into a political stance against hatred and bigotry.

The song also operates on a deeply personal level, exploring Welch's own struggles with mental health, substance use, and the exhausting nature of touring. The opening lines ("The show was ending and I had started to crack") reflect her fragility during the How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful tour. The motif of being "so high" works as a double entendre: it represents the literal intoxication or dissociation used to cope with overwhelming grief, but also an elevation above the earthly pain, likening those lost—or those surviving—to angels. Ultimately, the song transitions from a space of devastating heartbreak and isolation into a powerful, anthemic plea for unity. The repeated hook, "Hold on to each other," encapsulates the song's primary message: in times of immense darkness and societal fracture, human connection and mutual support are our only viable lifelines.

The narrative begins with a profound sense of personal and collective exhaustion. The protagonist reflects on a time when a performance tour was nearing its end, acknowledging that the intense pressure had caused her to mentally and emotionally fracture. Awakening in Chicago, she is met with a metaphorical blackened sky, symbolizing a devastating real-world tragedy that casts a dark, oppressive shadow over everything. In the midst of this despair, the protagonist observes someone who appears incredibly elevated or numbed—perhaps through substances or dissociation—likened to an angelic figure hovering above the pain. The protagonist admits to being in a similarly altered, detached state, capable of seeing this angelic presence through the haze.

As the narrative progresses, the focus shifts to the intimate connection between two people navigating this trauma. The protagonist listens closely to the beating heart of her companion, finding a grounding rhythm as the chaotic outside world seems to grind to a halt. They are surrounded by towering skyscrapers that watch over them like massive, unblinking giants, emphasizing their vulnerability in a vast, indifferent cityscape. The story centers on a specific period—the heavy, sorrowful days of June—when a targeted tragedy turned the simple act of loving into a profound and defiant political statement.

In the face of heartbreak that is both deeply personal and universally shared by the world, the protagonist confesses to losing her grip on reality. While she has always navigated life with a tenuous hold on stability, this particular moment of grief causes a genuine slip into despair. Amidst this sorrow, the sound of choirs singing in the street suggests public mourning or a collective gathering. Seeking refuge, she retreats to her companion's hotel room, choosing to hide away and watch the grim events unfold on a television screen, finding solace in their shared isolation. Throughout the narrative, an urgent, repetitive plea anchors the story: a desperate call for people to hold tightly to one another. This recurring mantra transforms the narrative from one of solitary breakdown into a defiant anthem of solidarity, urging survival and mutual support in a world overwhelmed by darkness.

"June" was written by Florence Welch and co-produced by Welch alongside Emile Haynie and Brett Shaw. It serves as the opening track for Florence + The Machine's fourth studio album, High as Hope, which was released on June 29, 2018. The genesis of the song traces back to the summer of 2016. Florence Welch was on tour in the United States, promoting her previous album, How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful, when the devastating news of the Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando broke on June 12.

Welch woke up in Chicago to this tragedy, an experience she directly references in the song's opening lyric: "Woke up in Chicago and the sky turned black." The horrific event deeply affected her, compounding the personal exhaustion and mental fragility she was already experiencing at the tail end of a long tour. She began crafting the music for High as Hope in secret, retreating to the small 123 Studios in Peckham, South London, with her engineer Brett Shaw. In these intimate, stripped-down sessions, she would mess around on the piano, channeling her raw emotions without the pressure of an immediate album deadline. This environment allowed "June" to take shape as an intensely personal reflection that bridged her private struggles with the broader, collective sorrow of the world. The song intentionally sets the stripped-back, honest tone for the rest of the High as Hope album, moving away from the grand, metaphorical storms of her past work into a more grounded, painfully real narrative.

The song utilizes a relatively loose, free-verse rhyme scheme in its verses, occasionally anchoring itself with perfect rhymes (e.g., "crack" / "black", "chest" / "left") to create a sense of groundedness amidst the chaotic emotions. This departure from strict, predictable rhyming structures gives the lyrics a conversational, diary-entry feel, aligning with the highly personal nature of the album.

Rhythmically, "June" mimics the beating of a heart, an image explicitly mentioned in the lyrics ("I hear your heart beating in your chest"). The tempo starts slow and rubato, floating without a strict rhythmic grid, which conveys the feeling of time standing still ("The world slows 'till there's nothing left"). As the urgency of the message increases, a steady, pulsing drumbeat is introduced. The interplay between the rhythmic pacing and the lyrics is masterful; the song literally accelerates in emotional intensity, culminating in a rhythmic climax that feels like a desperate, collective heartbeat fighting to stay alive.

Musically and literarily, "June" relies heavily on dynamics and pacing to convey its emotional weight. Literarily, Welch employs a confessional, first-person narrative style that breaks the fourth wall of her usual mythological songwriting. The use of epistrophe (the repetition of words at the end of successive phrases, as seen in "Hold on to each other") creates a chanting, meditative quality that reinforces the song's central message.

Musically, the track begins with a minimalist arrangement—just gentle, hesitant piano chords and the plucking of violins. This sparse instrumentation mirrors the fragility and the "cracking" Welch sings about in the opening lines. As the song progresses, the production gradually builds, introducing deeper percussion, layered synths, and expanding orchestral elements. Welch's vocal delivery shifts from a hushed, trembling vibrato to her signature, soaring wail. The most notable stylistic choice is the song's massive crescendo towards the end. The overlapping vocal tracks repeating the chorus and the outro simulate the sound of the "choirs sang in the street," translating the concept of a community coming together into a literal wall of sound. This dynamic build-up transforms the track from a quiet moment of despair into a triumphant, defiant anthem.

As the opening track of High as Hope, "June" received widespread critical acclaim for its raw vulnerability and departure from Florence + The Machine's previously highly metaphorical style. While it was not released as a standalone single, it quickly became a fan favorite and a staple of the band's live performances during the High as Hope tour.

Culturally, the song holds immense significance for the LGBTQ+ community due to its connection to the Pulse nightclub shooting. The lyric "When love became an act of defiance" resonated deeply and has been frequently quoted during Pride month and in discussions about LGBTQ+ rights. It captured the zeitgeist of the summer of 2016, providing a musical monument to the grief and the resilient spirit of the community. In live shows, Welch often performed this song with heightened emotion, sometimes draped in a Pride flag, cementing its legacy as a modern anthem of solidarity and human rights.

The song is rich in imagery that contrasts the vastness of the world with the fragility of the individual. One of the most striking metaphors is the line, "Skyscrapers look on like great, unblinking giants." This personification of the city's architecture creates a sense of an indifferent, imposing universe watching the tiny, vulnerable humans below as they grapple with grief. It emphasizes the feeling of isolation and insignificance in the wake of a massive tragedy.

The imagery of the "sky turned black" symbolizes the immediate, suffocating pall of sorrow and terror that descended following the news of the Pulse shooting. It represents a loss of innocence and the sudden intrusion of darkness into the everyday world. Additionally, the recurring phrase "you're so high... you had to be an angel" acts as a complex symbol. On one hand, it refers to the literal use of substances to numb the pain and escape the harsh reality of the world. On the other hand, it elevates the victims of the tragedy, and perhaps her grieving companion, to an ethereal, angelic status, finding a haunting beauty in the midst of brokenness. Finally, the "act of defiance" is a powerful conceptual metaphor, transforming love—a natural human emotion—into a weapon of resistance against hate crimes and societal oppression.

The most prominent recurring motif in "June" is the four-line hook: "Hold on to each other." This phrase is repeated obsessively, functioning as the emotional anchor of the track. Its repetition is significant because it mimics the nature of a mantra or a prayer used to self-soothe in times of panic. Structurally, it bridges the quiet introspection of the verses with the expansive, chaotic production of the outro.

Another crucial recurring element is the phrase "I'm so high / You're so high." This motif highlights the persistent desire to escape the pain of reality. By repeating these phrases alongside the angelic imagery, Welch emphasizes a shared state of vulnerability and dissociation. The contrast between the grounded reality of "Hold on to each other" and the escapism of "You're so high" creates a dynamic tension that defines the song's overarching meaning.