Ness Lake – i lean in to hear you sing / bl0ss0m | Single Premiere

SELF-released

Like many people, the first time I went to New York was an event. Not only was I going to visit the greatest city in the world for the first time at the ripe age of 28, but I was also going to visit my long-distance girlfriend and meet her family. It was a lot to take in, prep for, and look forward to. At the time, I was fresh off a Succession binge and even had my own little dorky playlist of New York-themed songs to hype myself up for the journey. I had no idea what to expect, but the trip went swimmingly. My girlfriend, a NY native, took me all over Brooklyn and Manhattan; I saw Coney Island, walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, and ate some of the best meals I’ve ever had in my life. One night I also had a drug-induced panic attack.

In a classic case of not knowing my limits, one night, I found myself wide awake at 3 am, petrified with fear, staring at the ceiling of our Air BnB as she slept soundly beside me. Physically everything was perfect and still, but the inside of my head was a panicky horror movie where I was continually experiencing my own death. Eventually, my restlessness woke her up, and I had to explain what was going on. In a moment of complete compassion and love, she put on some Yo La Tengo and sleepily talked me through another hour or so of Generally Bad Vibes until we both passed out in the early hours of the morning. 

This was a formative experience for me and not something I ever want to put myself or my partner through ever again. It was also a pivotal moment in my relationship – this person I’d only known for a few months was sweet and caring enough to talk me through this experience. It was love. 

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The newest songs from Ness Lake stem from a similar brush with the psyche that bandleader Chandler Lach experienced at the end of 2021. After experiencing the intense realization that all relationships ultimately end in either breakups or death, Lach began reflecting on the series of failed relationships that led him to this point in his life. 

Anyone that’s had even one relationship gone south can likely relate to concluding that they are the problem. Of course, every relationship (should be) 50/50, and the weight can never entirely be placed upon one person’s shoulders, but still, when one finds themselves looking back at a string of bad breakups and failed partnerships, it’s hard not to think that you are the common denominator. As Lach puts it, he grew to expect every relationship to fail and learned to avoid vulnerability in the process. 

His solution? Lean in. 

“i lean in to hear you sing” is the title track, lead single, and mantra-like sentiment that Lach has been returning to ever since that panic attack he experienced two years ago. In the wake of these personal realizations (and the dissolution of yet another relationship), he arrived at the conclusion that “leaning in” and committing is the answer. 

It’s easy to avoid intimacy, love, or a real relationship when you’re sure it’s going to fail from the outset. It’s also easy to find yourself in a “relationship” that is more emulation than truthfully sharing yourself with another person. You can feel like you’re getting all the benefits of a relationship on paper, but it’s merely a superficial checking of boxes that robs you of genuine connection. 

“i lean in to hear you sing” is a melodic and earwormy bedroom emo song with a chorus that has embedded itself deep in my brain after only a few listens. First laid out in a demo two years ago, the mind behind Ness Lake spent the intervening time returning to his own words and bringing them to life through multiple iterations, eventually culminating in this final version of the song. 

According to Lach, he and Marco Aziel (of Kiss Your Friends) spent about two years wringing the best out of these songs, thinking through every single aspect of the music, and figuring out how these sentiments could come to life visually. The music video is a kaleidoscopic swirl of colors pulled directly off the album art, all pulsating in time with the music as hand-written MS Paint lyrics guide the viewer past 3D Blender models and home video footage.

The second part of the band’s new double single is “bl0ss0m,” a tune that first appeared on an EP called marry the moon in 2021. While the first version of this song was a shaky and inward acoustic track, the newer rendition is considered and confident with electronic elements that sputter to life over the course of its three minutes. When compared to its original incarnation, “bl0ss0m” ends up being a perfect showcase for the artistic and personal growth that its creator has undergone in the intervening years. 

Similarly concerned with love and connection as its counterpart, “bl0ss0m” is about how you have to work for the beauty and love you find in your life. In Lach’s words, “If the conditions aren’t right, you have to be prepared for things to die.” Again, this song strikes upon the notion that your relationships have to be an intentional endeavor. In this way, both “i lean in to hear you sing” and “bl0ss0m” are perfect companions.  

Together these two tracks make an exciting update from Ness Lake and provide a perfect amuse-bouche for the project’s upcoming 14th album, which releases in-full next week on May 4th. Both “i lean in to hear you sing” and “bl0ss0m” will be available on all streaming services tomorrow.

Jesus Piece – ...So Unknown | Album Review

Century Media Records

There’s a spotlight on hardcore these days that is undeniable. Even if you’re only passively following the genre, it’s hard to avoid the hype. What’s interesting about this broader attention is that, historically, heavier music has been a much more underground style and therefore hasn’t typically attracted as many open eyes and ears. Nowadays, mostly thanks to TikTok and other social media, people don’t have to try as hard to discover art that falls outside the usual commercial guidelines of what is consumable and proven to sell to the masses. The combination of the “Turnstile Effect” and social media algorithms means that people who never would’ve previously considered engaging with the scene now have a foot in the door. To top it all off, there’s a virtually endless stream of live footage exposing countless bands to new audiences, maybe even more than the albums those bands release. All of this feels considered, understood, and taken into account on Jesus Piece’s heavy and determined second LP …So Unknown.

From the second the record starts, there is no breathing room. “In Constraints” kicks things off with vocalist Aaron Heard roaring the opening lines by himself for a matter of seconds before the full band stampedes in behind him, and things don’t let up once from there. Track after track, we’re beaten, pummeled, battered, and bruised by crushing riffs, thunderous drums, harrowing growls, and screams spitting pissed-off anthems of exhaustion and fighting through malaise. In all honesty, the relentlessness of it all washed over me with little effect the first few times I sat with the album. It goes hard. It goes very hard, but it didn’t connect much deeper for me at first. However, I know myself well enough to know I can be a hard sell. I have a joke amongst my friends where I claim that I don’t like movies anymore due to how picky and over convention I am. I didn’t dislike this record by any means, but something felt a bit distant. It wasn’t until I threw the album on while working out that things began to click for me a bit more.

What is apparent on …So Unknown is that Jesus Piece have written a conscious and active album that speaks directly to the crowds they’re playing to and will be playing to in the future. These crowds will range from the TikTok kids who are there because they saw a wild video online and want to experience it for themselves to 30-somethings like me who’ve always had a foot in the scene. I’m not going to front and say I throwdown in the pit. I can’t lie and claim I have a history of doing so whatsoever. I’ve been going to heavy shows since I was 14, but even in my younger days, I always admired them at arm’s length. I like a rowdy audience and a good crowd surf as much as the next guy, but the inherent violence that comes with a proper pit isn’t something I’ve felt compelled to experience firsthand. I’m content as a present observer. These songs weren’t written for me. They’re first and foremost written for the band members to expel and push themselves to darker and heavier depths, but they’re also clearly written to pop the fuck off live. These songs were written to soundtrack bodies in motion.

“FTBS” may be the best example of this, with its driving pace and call to “fuck the bullshit” if you don’t like what you’re hearing. Or take a song like “Fear of Failure,” whose sinister opening riff moves effortlessly into the crushing, doom-paced breakdown of the ending. There’s not a complacent moment on the record. Jesus Piece see what’s in front of them and are attacking it head-on. Every song needs to hit, so every song hits. The only real instance of any kind of reprieve is found in “Silver Lining,” a track that finds Heard ruminating on the deep love he has for his child. Even so, it would still be the hardest track on a lesser band’s album. 

I truly feel that any song from …So Unknown could’ve been a single, and that feels by design. There are countless Finn McKenty-types who will wax poetic about how “the album” is dead and the algorithm is capital G God these days but as much as I hate to admit it, they have a point. As a musician myself, I understand the reality of releasing music in 2023. Singles are king, but albums still matter, and it’s comforting to see a band understand and appreciate this. …So Unknown offers a tight 28 minutes of hardcore, and while it can feel a bit one note at times, it really grew on me even in the short time I’ve spent with it, and I am glad I gave it the time and space to do so. Putting this record into the context of physical movement really amplified my experience and has made me eager to witness it the way it was intended - in a room surrounded by a few hundred people all climbing over each other and screaming, “FUCK THE BULLSHIT!”

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Christian Perez is a member of the band Clot and is always trying his best to exist gently.

Kicksie – Slouch | Album Review

Counter Intuitive Records

Kicksie’s previous full-length, All My Friends, was released in August 2020, a time when society was essentially folding into itself as we collectively came to terms with the fact that COVID was not just a couple-month-long endeavor. Much of the world was forced to shuffle indoors and find ways to occupy their time, unknowingly unearthing who they are without any external means of coping. I was no different, as I too found myself burnt out with work, mundane online college courses, and life in general. While I don’t exactly remember how Kicksie’s 13-track pandemic release came into my field of view, I was immediately taken aback by the effect it had on my life. The opening track, “Sleepyhead,” had me wanting to run through a wall, all without using down-tuned guitars, breakdowns, or aggressive pit calls. This is where Kicksie finds their niche-- hard-hitting lyrics that stick to your brain for weeks on end, all while sounding like the soundtrack to a blockbuster coming-of-age movie.

Almost three years later, Kicksie, otherwise known as 22-year-old Giuliana Mormile, still never seems to lapse in consistency when it comes to creating captivating hooks and charismatic lyrics. The indie bedroom pop-emo project carries on its impressive run of self-recorded releases, this time around backed by scene anchor Counter Intuitive Records. One might find it daunting to release an album alongside labelmates with as much experience under their belts as Origami Angel, Oso Oso, and Mom Jeans; however, Mormile holds their own and then some on every track throughout their fifth full-length album, Slouch.

The record goes on an absolute tear in the first five tracks, which include the album's two singles, “You’re On” and “Sinking In.” Mormile tiptoes a fine line between confrontational, almost boastful lyricism on some tracks while being entirely introspective on others. She leans on this strength throughout the release, finding an immaculate balance between making the listener feel on top of the world, then at their lowest point, all within the span of a few minutes.

The first three tracks all portray Mormile at their feistiest. It’s in these tracks where crumbling relationships are confronted, including one song about having a complete lack of sympathy for straight-up stealing someone’s girlfriend. Track four, “Arcade,” is where the earnestness and lack of certainty begin to spill out. It is a spectacular love song about being unsure who someone really is in comparison to your expectations. Starting the track with melancholic chords, Mormile shows off her keen ability to pair lyrics with an exquisite vocal melody.

Tracks like “You’re On,” “Sinking In,” and “Go-Getter” all display Mormile’s pop-rock abilities at their finest, striking the listener with loud, memorable choruses. Although this is not all the album has to offer, she does a hell of a job writing slower, pensive tracks like my favorite, “Wish I Was (Anyone Else).”  The album offers a satisfying spread of upbeat, energetic pop-rock tracks alongside emo-tinged slow burners.

Many bands get away with writing 10 or 12 okay-ish tracks on a new album and calling it a day. It’s clear that Kicksie put their all into each and every song–not a single cut on Slouch lacks emotion or musicianship. While the two singles chosen for this release represent the album well, literally any other song could’ve done the same. 

Although it may seem obvious to some, I had to take a step back when listening to this album and appreciate how much these songs simply make me feel. Kicksie does a phenomenal job of crafting high-quality music, all while connecting with the listener on a personal level. Given the level of production and musicianship on display, it’s hardly accurate to call this a “bedroom” project anymore. Slouch launches Kicksie into a realm that longtime fans always knew the band would reach. 

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Brandon Cortez is a writer/musician residing in El Paso, Texas. When not playing in shitty local emo pop punk bands, he can be found grinding Elden Ring on his second cup of cold brew. Find him on Twitter @numetalrev.

Replica City – Last Rites | Single Premiere

Snappy Little Numbers / Power Goth Recordings

When I first moved from Detroit to Denver, one of the things I lamented most was “restarting” in a new music scene. I had spent the better part of two years going to gigs of all sizes and getting to know the talented, kind, funny, smart people from all over the Midwest who filled the bars, theaters, and basements every night to create one of the most healthy music communities I’ve ever been a part of. Then I moved halfway across the country to a place where I didn’t know a soul and barely knew any bands. 

I researched as best I could through a combination of show flyers, local DIY venues, and some light Instagram scrolling, but at first, I was saddened to see a certain lack of Midwesty-ness. In my mind, it felt like I had moved away from the emo capital of the world to a city mostly known for 3OH!3 and The Lumineers. While COVID certainly put a damper on the exploration of my local music scene, what I’ve come to find is that Denver may be less of an emo city, but it’s much more of a musically diverse city.

In the time since 2019, I’ve grown up a lot. I’ve mellowed out and don’t need every band to be jittery Midwest emo. I’ve found a lot of joy in discovering bands that make music beyond “the tappy shit” yet still maintain the DIY ethos that attracted me to that style of music in the first place. 

One of my favorite Denver discoveries has been a band called Broken Record, a shoegazey four-piece making sturdy-as-fuck indie rock inspired equal parts by Green Day and The Cure. An important offshoot of Broken Record is Replica City, a post-punk/post-hardcore group featuring half of Broken Record’s lineup. On guitar and vocals, you have the band’s mastermind Corey Fruin. Bass is helmed by Broken Record guitarist Matt Dunne, and drums come courtesy of Cherished’s Nate Rodriguez. Together, they make snarling and muscular alternative rock that they describe as haunting and frantic. 

Even though I feel like it may be diminutive or have negative connotations, I want to clarify that I mean “offshoot” here in the most complimentary way possible. It’s an outgrowth from something that I already know and love. To use another hyper-local example, Nick Webber’s recent All The Nothing I Know is an offshoot of A Place For Owls: it’s a record from someone in a band I already love doing something in the same realm but entirely standalone. These are also all Denver artists, and I (truthfully) just wanted to create this analogy to list out some of the most exciting bands I’ve discovered since living here. 

But back to Replica City. The band’s newest song, “Last Rites,” comes on the heels of two other singles meant to introduce listeners to the band’s distinct world. Throughout these songs, chunky basslines, shit-kicking drums, and fast-passed guitar slashes coalesce into a winding brand of rock that is beautifully realized on-record and explodes to life when performed live. 

“Last Rites” specifically opens with an arid bit of guitarwork that feels remarkably like a hike through one of Denver’s lush, high-desert landscapes. The drums and bass mount throughout the track, expertly withholding catharsis until the song’s final moments. Meanwhile, Fruin airs out morbid and misery-stricken observations on death. The line that lingers with me the most is, “You know you’re fucked when the ambulance is coming with no sirens on,” which is laid out bare over a swaying beat courtesy of Rodriguez.

While the band’s first single, “Answer to the Night,” is meant to be a catchy introduction, the second single, “Crowd Work,” is a frustrated and (half) tongue-in-cheek vent session about residing in the house of unrecognized talent. “Last Rites” takes things to their logical conclusion, ruminating on death and rounding out this triumvirate of human frustration. The band’s inspiration playlist for their latest single includes the likes of Buzzcocks and Fugazi alongside Greet Death, Protomartyr, and Unwound, and the math checks out. All of these influences combine with the decade-plus musical talents of each member, resulting in a stark, satisfying single that makes a case for Replica City as one of the many Denver bands to watch. 

“Last Rites” will be available on all streaming platforms tomorrow. You can pre-order a flexi 7” of the single here via Snappy Little Numbers and Power Goth Recordings.

Endswell and Excuse Me, Who Are You? – Twins in Wisconsin Screamo

Thumbs Up Records

Something they don’t tell you about music writing is how often you wind up saying the same thing. I try not to use the same phrase multiple times within one article, but I’ve absolutely written the word “propulsive” more than any normal person should. As a writer, though, you have a box of tools, some of which you break out more often than others. 

I suppose a good writer would learn to recognize those tropes and avoid them, but me? I lean into them. Some descriptors are just objectively true, no matter how cliched they sound. Shoegaze music is dreamy. Pop-punk music is sunny. Who am I to pan through a thesaurus to find a synonym when common parlance is right there? Would I rather get my point across easily, or do I want to make my audience Google a word just so I can sound smart while still saying the same thing?

My point is I know my own writing style well enough to know what words I gravitate towards. Especially when you focus on a genre of music as specific as emo, there are only so many words you can use to talk about these sounds.

Despite its odd time signatures and youthful vigor, emo music is often very predictable. This is a genre that cribs from itself constantly. There’s a pantheon of great artists that most younger artists revere, and lots of the current music (both good and bad) stems directly from that inspiration and reinterpretation. Most of the time, you know where an emo song is going before it even gets there. You know the turmoil; you grow to expect the instrumentation. After long enough, you might even become immune to the zany pop culture clips that bands deploy to punctuate a particularly sick riff. If I’m being honest with myself, I have an insatiable appetite for this shit. And that’s why I’m here.

This predictability is also what makes it so exhilarating when a band does something unexpected within this format. 

I’ll admit, this was a lot of bullshit lead-up to say that “Heart Container,” the first official song from the screamo project Endswell, is a phenomenal piece of music. It’s a track that mixes emo and post-hardcore in pretty equal measure and also makes me want to bust out every word that I tend to reach for when talking about this genre. 

The track opens with an iconic Ocarina of Time soundbite as we hear our old, annoying friend Navi shout a phrase every 90s kid and Zelda fan knows all too well, “HEY! LISTEN!” Immediately after this Pavlovian call to attention, a snappy drum beat cracks through the song. Seconds later, a tappy guitar joins in with fractal, spiky sounds straight out of the math rock playbook. 

For a moment, I can hear ripples of all my favorite late-2000s post-hardcore bands. Endswell sound like a group whose demo I would find while cruising MySpace, then see signed to Sumerian or Equal Vision a couple of years down the line. 

When I think about seeing this song performed live, I imagine shouting along to the strained Stars Hollow-esque screams over the needly guitarwork and ear-shattering bass drops. In an alternate timeline, I could practically see myself listening to this song over my blown-out Honda Civic’s speakers slotted between Blessthefall and the demo for Skies of December. 

(Editors Note: if you understood that last reference, please message me immediately, I need someone to bond with over Skies of December)

Adjacent to the awesome progressive post-hardcore screamo of Endswell is a Midwest emo band called Excuse Me, Who Are You?. The two projects share members, resulting in a Venn diagram of sounds that overlaps a decent amount, but still retains some key distinctions that make each project unique. 

Both of these bands are based out of Madison, Wisconsin, a state that, between Bug Moment, Tiny Voices, Honey Creek, and Barely Civil, seems to be massively exciting right now. At the epicenter of this upper-Midwest emo pop-off is Thumbs Up Records, a small-run DIY label that’s been around since 2020 and touts itself as the “Home of the Riff Mafia.” 

Technically, Excuse Me, Who Are You, and Tiny Voices are the only bands on that above list actually signed to the label. With Endswell joining their ranks this February (and new music teased for later in the year), it seems like a good time to put all your DIY stocks in Thumbs Up Records. 

But back to the music of EMWAY, the other, slightly more emo side of the Endswell coin. The band only has four songs out right now (technically five if you count a standalone rendition of the EP’s closing track), but essentially, the band’s entire body of work exists in full on the 12-and-a-half minute About That Beer I Owed Ya. The Half-Life samples sprinkled throughout the EP might be easy to write off as arbitrary overly compressed soundbites, but to a gamer-ass dork like myself, when I first fired up the release and heard “Rise and shine, Mr. Freeman,” a jolt of decade-old nostalgia shot through my body like Frankenstein. 

The first song, “They’re Waiting For You Gordon,” even features guest vocals from Maxwell Culver of Endswell, pushing the two projects together to the point where they fuse into one. The band lets the tail end of the opening monologue from Half-Life 2 play out as the instrumental slowly brings things up to speed for a screamo rant over peppy guitar plucks that eventually snap into place and lash out in a coordinated attack with the other instruments. 

The middle two songs, “Chicken Cock” and “Urine Luck,” obviously don’t take themselves too seriously but tout equally impressive emo instrumentation, dramatic screams, and progressive hardcore breakdowns. At one point, I remember hearing the classic “Emo WOO!” and opening my Spotify app to grab a screenshot. I sat there for a moment staring at my screen as I took in the nostalgic Polaroid-like album art perched above the words “Urine Luck” and “Excuse Me, Who Are You?” I texted my partner a screenshot saying, “I think I found the most emo song/band/album art combination of all time.”

Emo is a genre rife with tropes and cliches. Its very name is a diminutive, dismissive short-hand almost meant to read “don’t take this seriously.” But I do take this seriously, and so does Excuse Me, Who Are You? The band uses video game samples and goofy song titles yet still displays real feelings and *clears throat* emotions throughout their four given tracks. The presentation may turn some away, but the music scratches a very real itch for me and arrives at a very earnest place. 

By the time the EP’s killer final track rolls around, I often find myself ready to revisit Endswell. This results in an endless feedback loop, where I remain (willingly) stranded in the same Wisconsin basement with these two bands. I just want to sit there, embedded in the crowd, sipping my beer and watching these musicians build off each other until the roads are clear enough for all of us to get home safely. We might be snowed in with these members of the Riff Mafia, but it’s nice. We have cold beer and sick tunes. Why would you wanna go anywhere else?