Melkbelly‘s debut album, Nothing Valley, gave notice that the Chicago foursome had an encyclopedic knowledge of noisy, heavy indie rock both past and present, while also impressing with the ability to stitch it together in ways that made it all seem fresh.
The noise-damaged guitars, math rock drums, sticky-sweet pop melodies, and songs that seem naggingly familiar in a very good way are all back on PITH, only ramped up in ways that matter. The noise is heavier and more majestic; on songs like “Sickeningly Teeth” the guitars sound like they’re being poured down a staircase, while on “Kissing Under Some Bats” they spread across the speakers in an slowly unspooling hissy hum that would make Sonic Youth proud.
The tunes are hookier and Miranda Winters sings them with even more wide-eyed joy. “Little Bug” is a lovely grunge lullaby that listeners might find themselves humming distractedly days later, “Humid Heart”‘s tricky tempo and jagged melody can’t hide the song’s prettily melancholy core, and “Season of the Goose” sounds like a lost That Dog song as played by Polvo on speed. The tracks alternate between overloaded rave-ups where the drums crash like waves on rocks and gooey slow jams that have the ability to freeze time with their sluggishly beautiful chord changes – each one brought to life by the bandmembers playing the living hell out of their instruments and making every song feel like it matters. It’s not some kind of ’90s nostalgia trip or a spot-the-influences experience; this is a band making the most out of their time together and making music that feels alive and vital. PITH is a thrilling leap forward for the band that sees them hitting all the marks they hit so well on their debut and then leaping past them into new dimensions of sound and energy.