Trepid – “Watch Me”

Self-released

Earlier this month, Athens, Georgia rock band Trepid conducted an interview with local zine Hoi Palloi that the publication prefaced as a “drunken interview that included numerous redactions.” But amongst all the decontextualized jokes, the quintet ended the interview with a promise: “we’re alive & well & we’ll continue to make music & and we’re going to be putting out new music.” As of last Friday, they fulfilled that inebriated promise by releasing their first single of the year, “Watch Me,” a hypnotic track that dares you to follow the band into the abyss.

Self-described as “cigrit smokin’ music,” Trepid are leading local experts on crafting a sound that relentlessly cascades over you. Last year, the band released their first song, “Comeback,” a single that edged into Nate Russin’s most melodic impulses, and now their latest track twists against a fuzzier wall, surrounding you with the shadows of your most secret self.

“Watch Me” immediately ensnares you, pulling you slowly down into the dirt with the reverberations of J. Ben Turk and Turner Chastain’s guitar work, alongside Adam Smith’s uncanny bassline, and the clack of Ethan Houseman’s drumsticks. But it’s Madison Bryant’s voice that sneaks up on you like an apparition. She begins with a languid command: “watch me live, watch me die.” The guitars follow her throughout as she sings, “made of wood / I’m made of stone / I’m built for this / it’s in my bones,” until everything collides together. The solemn bend of the song takes a sharp turn into a cacophonous release of roiling energy before zipping itself up again.

Bryant’s lyrics guide the song into further bursts of electricity, with each word zapping against itself over and over. Before the song quiets, she’s joined by an exhausted chorus of her own voice, an interplay strung up on a live wire and repeating the passive dare of the refrain. The effect is disorienting and haunting, swelling enough to knock you back off your feet and push the whole song over the edge into a cataclysmic finish. 

“Watch Me” keeps you spellbound from beginning to end, a trick that Trepid is fast to cast over their listeners, washing over you in a melancholic catharsis. It’s a pulsating addition to Trepid’s small but growing discography, and perfect listening for sitting alone on a lawn chair and staring at the sky.