Still House Plants - If I don't make it, I love u (2024)

 

Math Rock / Post-Rock / Slowcore

RIYL: Storm and Stress, Wildbirds & Peacedrums, Kim Gordon

★★★★½

Still House Plants aim to obliterate on opener "M M M", patiently constructing a harrowing fortress of sound layer by layer that smothers all beneath it as it reaches skyward. Each minor-key power guitar chord is an angular concrete brick, repeatedly stacked ad nauseum with jazzy drum fills serving as connecting mortar between the pieces; an endless pattern of sharp edges in their abrupt starts and stops. Front-woman Jessica Hickie-Kallenbach stands guard high atop the watchtower, belting out guttural anthems that challenge all who dare approach.

Stick with it, though, and you'll begin to find the cracks in the seemingly impenetrable wall of electrified squall. The anguished vocals transform into a siren's song as they envelop your climb through narrow stairwells up to higher floors of the tower, with brief pauses to rest in sultry lounges of empty space that serve as brief oases in the otherwise relentless ascent. And as the record goes on, the surrounding concrete slabs thin and the structure begins to crumble, showering dust on the exquisite interiors while the omnipresent queen's wails become a manic and shattering lament.

The album's back half leaves the insides partially exposed with the exterior architecture unfinished, allowing for breathtaking views of a glittering desert landscape but also increasing the danger as oppressive winds whip back and forth. "Pushed" threatens to throw you off the ledge entirely and leave you plummeting, and persevering only yields a return to the familiar energetic assault on "More More Faster", a reinterpretation of the opener that's even more aggravated at your persistent intrusion. If I don't make it, I love u is a paradoxical excursion as Still House Plants' barrage pushes you away while at the same time desperately longing to invite you in; their creation a steel scaffolding built around a broken heart to reflect the lovestruck loneliness of a generation.