Emerging from the introspective haze of Oklahoma City’s indie music scene, some fear delivers a deeply emotive and immersive self-titled debut record, which will be released on January 16, 2025, via Rite Field Records. Initially started as a solo project from Branden “Bran” Palesano, the band has evolved into a dynamic quartet, and their debut album captures the delicate balance between personal reflection and collective artistry. Rooted in slowcore and lo-fi rock, some fear blends melancholy textures with hauntingly beautiful melodies, creating a sound that feels both intimate and universal.
The album opens with the track, "Worm," a slow, meditative track that establishes the band’s knack for layering gentle guitar riffs over an atmospheric backdrop. The steady rhythm acts as a heartbeat, setting a contemplative tone for the record.
"Skin I Can’t Peel" follows, serving as a standout single and a thematic centrepiece of the record. It’s a track steeped in introspection, where Palesano’s lyrics explore the complexities of growth and acceptance. The guitar work is unhurried yet cathartic, unfurling like the gradual shedding of emotional barriers. It’s a song that invites the listener to sit with its weight, reflecting on their own relationships and personal evolution.
"The Road" and "Wake Up" continue the musical journey with contrasting moods. "The Road" is expansive and cinematic, with reverb-drenched guitars evoking endless highways and the quiet solace of solitude before the track erupts. Meanwhile, "Wake Up" injects a spark of urgency, its lo-fi fuzz and processed vocals building to a cathartic crescendo.
On "Let It Go," the band leans into their slowcore influences with delicate precision but picks up a bit in pace. The song’s sparse arrangement and soft vocals evoke a sense of fragility as if the music might break apart at any moment. "Game" takes a more experimental turn in its intro, featuring off-kilter rhythms and dissonant guitar tones that create a sense of unease, mirroring the uncertainty of its lyrical themes.
The title track, "Some Fear," anchors the album with its haunting simplicity. The lyrics delve into the universal struggle of confronting one’s inner demons, while the instrumentation remains subdued, allowing the emotional weight of the song to take center stage.
The closing track, "The Faucet Does All The Crying" is a raw and poignant moment on the record. Palesano’s vulnerability shines as he recounts feelings of numbness and emotional detachment. The track’s quiet intensity gradually builds, reflecting the catharsis of its creation. It’s a song that encapsulates the heart of the album—unfiltered emotion set against a sonic landscape that’s equal parts soothing and stirring.
The album closes with an air of quiet resolve, leaving the listener with a sense of connection to the band’s journey. The production, handled entirely by themselves in their home studio and mastered by Boone Patrello (Teethe), lends an intimate, almost diary-like quality to the record. Every note and every lyric feels intentional as if the band is inviting the listener into their most private thoughts.
Additionally, some fear’s debut is a triumph of understated beauty. The band captures the ache of self-discovery and the bittersweet nature of change with remarkable grace. Fans of slowcore, lo-fi rock, and shoegaze will find much to love here, but the album’s emotional resonance transcends genre boundaries.
Lyrically with some fear, the band has created a record that feels like a conversation with an old friend—achingly familiar yet deeply profound. It’s a testament to the power of vulnerability and the artistry of turning life’s quiet moments into something unforgettable.
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