It’s always fun to see a genre from a fresh perspective, and much more so if it’s coming from the eyes of a new generation. Bacchae started as a band in 2016, back when they didn’t know what they were getting into. Fast forward to 2020, they have released their debut Pleasure Vision, and the result is a dissection of punk in a spectrum of different styles and expressions. It’s clear that the band is currently in the middle of their exploration stage, but that doesn’t stop this from being an entertaining experience. Bacchae’s versatility is palpable, they are not afraid to bare their teeth and sink it in your skin with frenetic drums and discordant riffs, while still having their fair share of sensitive songs that dive deep into emotional and introspective subjects. 

There’s three categories in which I can loosely explain these differences in style, first of which is the rebellious hardcore group, starting with “Leave town”. Its vocals grab you by the throat with its sadistic delivery, stabbing in with villainous intent. The guitars are in full snarl and sneer, warning you to stay out. The bridge is by far the most entertaining part, with a theatrical breakdown of scornful lyrics — think Demon Barber meets punk. “Stop Looking” is a song about social anxiety and the pressure of everyone’s expectation. Brimming with a sassy attitude, each word is spitefully uttered like insults from the Mean Girls’ burn book. “Older I Get” reaches its boiling point immediately with its screeching guitars and urgent drums, lashing out at an authority figure. The hook “You’re disillusioned / guilty as proven” sinks in deeper every time it repeats.

The pop-punk side is sweet and charming, almost as if the band has shape-shifted back to human form. In “Hammer”, the vocals are soft and sincere, the instruments follow with a surf-rock calm that’s great for a Sunday afternoon. “Everything Ugly” is an episode of self-loathing where everything you seem to do just doesn’t turn out right and it feels like you’re wasting your time.

The third group is for the outliers, this is where the band stretch their chops and come up with something of their own — the choice cuts that stand out from their peers. “Turns Me” has an 80’s inspired groove with glittering synths and danceable rhythm. The result is evocative, with lyrics describing a dangerous see-saw between love and lust. The best is saved for last in “Losing War”. The hardcore inspired sound is combined with theatrical delivery, turning it into a rock opera masterpiece. An anthemic song with dynamic vocal work, you can hear the poison drip with every howl and wail. If rebel groups had a recruitment song like this, people would surely line up to sign in.

Pleasure Vision stays true to its punk roots while still offering a good variety. Whatever style you may favor, you are sure to find what you like in its 11-track runtime. Although this may be a good start on its own, I feel like Bacchae is still on track to develop their own style, and I can’t wait to hear what they come up with next.

Depressedelica is Mathew Lee Cothran’s second full-length album under the moniker Elvis Depressedly. It is simply put, is an artful collection that gravitates around that feeling of not-being-okay. Although each track can be characterized under labels such as electronic, psychedelic and lo-fi pop, there’s a distinct personality to this sound that can’t really be nailed into one umbrella. Unconventional structures and textures can be heard throughout, ranging from industrial noises to synthesized beastly howls, undoubtedly the result of deep experimentation. There’s liberal use of the vocoder to mask Cothran’s voice, which can be read as a character hiding behind a mask, suppressing emotion. Although most of the overall mood is gloomy and dispirited, there’s a romantic undertone that can be heard in small details, found in cheerful harmonies and instrument choices, evoking a feeling of bittersweet acceptance to not being quite okay.

The opener “Who Can Be Loved In This World” is a folky romp song that could have actually been the only happy cut in this album, except for a hint of hesitation in its melancholic arrangement, suggesting that love is still a doubtful outcome. “Jane Don’t You Know Me” is a few 808s short of being lo-fi hip hop, but it serves the same purpose. Something you could listen to when you’re longing for someone. “Primal Sigh” is built around a synthesized vocal effect that’s reminiscent of Kid A, albeit a lot creepier, like a newborn monster howling for affection. It depicts a moment of anxiety that hits a breaking point, tempting to resort to self-harm in “The hope that I’ll have the guts to silence my raging mind and shut it up.” 

A happy-sad dynamic is present in “Can You Hear My Guitar Rotting”, with it’s deceptively poppy intro and melody interspersed with the imagery of being drunk and bored with its aforementioned rotting guitar. Tribal drum rhythms are meshed with electronic sounds in “Holo World” creating a contrast between organic and robotic. It muses on about how fragile everything is: “Time gets lost / Dreams subside”. Intentional or not, the title alludes to living in a Hollow world. 

Cothran displays his best songwriting chops in the tail end of the album. “Let’s Break Up The Band” is an introspective yet pragmatic take on the fall out between collaborators: “Let’s break up the band / Cause i don’t know who the fuck i am / And everything you say digs into my soul / And the music we play is out of our control”. The closer “New Love In The Summertime” pulls the rug from under you as it sounds like an upbeat love song, but the words suggest that our destructive tendencies is what makes us want new love every summer.

Although Depressedelica delves into dark themes and subjects, it remains realistic and doesn’t fall into melodrama. There’s a tinge of acceptance with every positive note — scarce as they may be — that suggests that things are not okay sometimes, and that’s just how life is.

On their debut album, the Colombia, Ohio based quartet, Snarls shows us a snapshot in the life of a modern day twenty-something. Filled with honest reflections on love, mental health and the pressures and expectations they have for the future. The charming, heart-on-your sleeve approach to songwriting has once again proven to be effective. Burst is flavored with alt rock, indie-pop and emo, topped with lots of glitter as Chlo White (vocals/guitar), Riley Hall(bass/vocals) and siblings Mick and Max Martinez (guitar and drums, respectively) show us their technical skill and dazzling presence in this 10 track collection.

The opener “Walk in the Woods” introduces us to their style of bright and glamorous riffs, like rays of sunshine seeping through a canopy of trees. The guitars paint a calm and somber scenery. White’s vocals carry a heavy burden as she sings the hook “I can’t quit you baby / No matter how hard I try”.

“Marbles” features distorted riffs and an air of frustration with every uttered word. White’s overdubbed vocals slowly builds in a crescendo of desperation, ending the chorus with a gut-wrenching howl. “Twenty” stands out in its simplicity while effectively conveying its theme of disappointment. The slow tempo and dangling guitars support the vocals in confusion and regret with the line “Chase my tail and dreams like a fucking freak”.

“Hair” is surprisingly, the only time that Snarls bare their teeth. The vocals are delivered in a more scornful approach, every line strikes like a bitter accusation. Minor arpeggios drip down and bleed through like poison on every word. The band channels their inner punk with: “You can’t tell me to do” while maintaining their signature glitter with: “Hey boy, stop messing with my hair”. “Better Off” is by far the track with the heaviest subject. It goes through the struggle wanting something that’s beyond reach, looking for love but finding nothing and not knowing where to start: “If I’m a goner, if I’m a loner / I can’t be the first one, first lover to wonder”.

“Falling” starts with a light and airy intro, embellished by a soothing chorus of angelic voices. A stark contrast to the rest of the track, full of erratic starts and stops with a background of shoe-gaze noise. It evokes the feeling of hesitation and instability, suggesting a struggle with mental health.

The closing song “Burst” erupts with a bang in its opening line: “When I die may I burst with a crack of thunder and a lot of glitter”, depicting the imagery in the album cover. Much as I would like to see someone explode into glitter, I would not wish for this to be the fate of the band. In the end, it asks if anyone would care if they fade away to inexistence (the answer is yes – they count me in). 

Snarls’ debut album is surprisingly well-mixed and refined for a band that’s starting out fresh. Burst is a promising start and each hook is a piece of stardust that’s sure to get stuck in your head for days. 

Remember that scrapbook you or your friends may have had when growing up? Filled with faded photographs, random memorabilia, maybe an original poem or two. Each page feels like a time capsule wrapped in a dreamy haze. I Was Trying to Describe You To Someone, the sophomore album from Wednesday captures this feeling very well. Elements of grunge, indie-pop and shoegaze are used in place of Polaroids, post-it notes and cheesy quotes. And to great effect, the heavily distorted noise and lo-fi ambiance help sell the image of faded memories. Each subject delves deep into love, sadness, nostalgia, dreams and regret, with Karly Hartzman’s tender vocals gliding wistfully through a swirl of guitar noise. 

The opening “Fate is” starts off with heavy grunge guitars that’s surprisingly easy to listen to. Hartzman’s voice cuts through in her soft almost-conversational delivery but heaves out in regret as she sings “Only reason that I did it was to find out what it’s like”. “Billboard” follows in a slow and serene pace. Vocals are overdubbed to get that nostalgic vibe. The guitars ring out like a siren of conflicting emotions. Overall it feels like going on a bus ride home and passing through places that hold painful memories.

“Love Has No Pride” has a heavy mood, one of those songs that can make you sigh without meaning to. The vocals waltzes in a slow tempo, detailing a day that just gets worse with lyrics like “It’s too much, “Sky looks like a bruise” and the chorus “Condemned, I am condemned”. “November” is a minimalist song, revolving around its poetry. Just like the ones you may have written on your notes, afraid to show anyone for fear of embarrassment. The line “There’s nothing like the way you loiter in my heart” is lifted up by wailing guitars.

“Coyote” is where the shoegaze ramps up, with knobs restlessly oscillating throughout the whole song, like an eerie howl of a creature from a Hitchcock film that’s lurking in the shadows. The lyrics tell a mundane story of a couple seemingly unaware of what’s happening, but then she asks “What’s making the noise outside / When it’s quiet on a Sunday night?”.

“Revenge of the Lawn” is deeply nostalgic, like that song you first wrote and recorded in an old cassette, hidden in old boxes only to be found years later. The acoustic guitars are sparse and the melodies are sweet. Vocal lines are overdubbed and out of sync, almost like it was an outtake. It’s charming and dreamy, the clattering tape noise mimics the patter of rain.

There is no title track in this album, but I Was Trying To Describe You To Someone fits the bill perfectly. We can never be too accurate in describing someone, the best we can do is lay down little details to the best of our ability. This album is much the same, and Wednesday has shared their life in bits and pieces that we can all experience and enjoy.  

Four of Arrows is an album filled with deeply emotional themes. Great Grandpa has stepped it up in their sophomore album, hitting their stride and then some, evolving into a more sophisticated sound. Heavy-hitting emotions are tackled with profound maturity and sincerity. Carried by the versatile vocals of Alexe Menne and her keen ability to move from soft quavers to full howls, each track carries with it a heartfelt layer of depth on top of the poetic lyricism. Instrumentation is grandiose and the song structures don’t hold back, going as full as possible without being overbearing. You can hear influences ranging from 90’s alt pop to math rock and emo, but combined in a concoction that’s uniquely theirs. A mark of a band that’s truly confident with their sound. 

In the opening “Dark Green Water”, pain is inspected in a refreshingly mature lens with the line “No perfection can ever bring joy”. Looking into the instances of joy and suffering and reflecting on how these moments are crucial. “Digger” is full of dramatic tension. With a somber minor riff cradling Menne’s vulnerable voice. This 90’s-inspired rock track mixes Alanis Morisette’s attitude with Sarah McLachlan’s angelic tone. The song goes through several movements with its conflicting choruses: “That’s why I hate you / That’s why I love you” and ends in an epic outro of sweeping guitar riffs.

You might do a double take with “Mono no Aware” but it’s actually a Japanese phrase about the pathos of things, and in this tune the feeling is perfectly reflected. It’s about the sad remembrance of how things used to be, and how they’ll never be the same again – “It reminds me of my failing grasp of the present, memory, self and past”. “Bloom” is the brightest track in this whole collection. The 90’s influence creeps in again and this time it’s a blend of The Corrs and Third Eye Blind. Encouraging you to stop feeling anxious about how your life is going and “Step into whatever you want to / Let your spirit bloom”. 

The hardest-hitting tracks are at the tail end of the record. “Human Condition” is an inspection of what it is to be. A track that could just save you from your teenage woes. The kind of thing a big sister or brother would say to take you out of a bind: “Don’t let life take your hard work / I know you feel done but you’re still so young.” It’s encouraging enough to lift you out of it but the melodies remain sympathetic, letting you know you’re not alone. “Split up the kids” is a same-day delivery straight to the feels. It depicts the arrangement that broken families are forced to go through, where the kids split up along with the parents. The somber acoustic guitar and ghostly harmonies ring with each line. 

Great Grandpa delvers a straight gut punch. Their openness to look at heavy themes and ability to illustrate this through their music makes Four of Arrows a must listen. 

Change is Bad is the first album of Chicago based post-punk band Stuck. Despite this being their first offering as a newly formed group, they’ve managed to create a unique and sophisticated vision. The visceral instruments and the artistic use of atonality is linked tightly with sincere lyricism. The vocals take up a lot of the spotlight here and definitely carries the whole character of the album, it ranges from short scornful stabs to full-on primal howls that reach into your psyche. Each track is rife with anguish, existential dread and raw energy that is presented to us in a harsh yet cathartic way.

“Ceiling” starts as a call to action, with guitar riffs that interweave in polyrhythm. The harmonies are claustrophobic, and the bass line suggests something lurking in the background. “Invisible Wall” is a standout track that starts with jittery starts and stops that turns into a disorienting swirl of noise. It evokes a feeling that you’re being trapped and the walls are constantly shifting, like being stuck in M.C. Escher’s Relativity. There’s a riff that’s eerily similar to The Twilight Zone theme which adds another layer to its creepiness.

“Bug Song” makes me excited, because I can finally use the word Kafkaesque. Indeed this song goes through a metamorphosis of its own, starting out as a subdued droning of melancholic guitars, it slowly intensifies into a cacophony of roars and moans. The lyrics fall into a pit of self-loathing, comparing himself to different insects as he muses about feelings of inadequacy and laziness. “I wanna be everything that I hate”, he declares in anguish.

Foreboding dissonance is the theme of “Plank II”, with vocals that seem to be taken straight out of a public demonstration. There’s no megaphone needed here as the heaviest line in the album “We’re living in a death cult” reverberates loud and clear in our daily lives.

“Anniversary” is the most personal track and also the longest at 4 minutes. It’s given the most emotional depth, and parts of the vocals are finally sung. There’s an intertwining of dissonant guitar riffs that induces a vertigo effect. Nostalgia and regret bleed through the lung-busting outro, implying a trauma that’s being re-lived over and over.

The closing track “Bells” starts with a hopeful line : “Like a potted plant too big for its home / I’ll take what I’m given”, signaling a hopeful for the better. The track is full of conviction, spoken by someone with a chip on their shoulder, who’s up against the odds. “I can’t see the future / We’ll know how it ends.” 

Change is Bad is something you shouldn’t miss. It should be prescribed to listeners who need a dose of therapeutic anger, just make sure you’re on solid ground or you might get rocked off by the sheer amount of dissonance.