Back with its first full-length album since 2020, long-running Minneapolis alt-rock outfit High On Stress delivers an absolute winner on the 12-song Still Here. This is the band’s first album on Rum Bar Records, and it slots perfectly between Tom Baker and Mono In Stereo on the label’s roster. What we’ve got here is good, solid Midwestern heart-on-sleeve rock ‘n roll branching from the Replacements/Bash & Pop family tree. The album successfully combines a singer/songwriter’s soul with the no-nonsense punch of a heartland bar band. Nick Leet knows how to craft a song with a killer hook that will also move you on a deeper level. I hear these songs and imagine myself sitting in some dimly-lit dive while I drink a pint of cheap beer and ponder my personal wins and losses and the general sadness of the human condition.
I always have a soft spot for this sort of rootsy, power pop–tinged honest everyman rock, and High On Stress pulls it off as well as any band on the scene these days. The songwriting, musicianship, and production all hit the mark. The fantastic single “Over/Thru” (which Leet co-wrote with Kevin Salem) reappears here, but it’s certainly not the only standout. Opening cut “House of Cards” is a knockout mid-tempo rocker that brings to mind the heyday of American alternative rock. “Plans Have Plans” is such a relatable gem of a song that it sounds instantly familiar, as if you’ve known it all your life. The title track is nothing short of an anthem — a proper album closer if I ever heard one. For a band to be sounding this good after more than two decades in the game is a pretty remarkable thing. It’s not every day that you come across music with this much soul. Pop open a cold one and get High on Stress.
Blindead’s third album Affliction XXIX II MXMVI is one of the most underrated classics of the 2010s. The Polish band’s sound was bigger than its fanbase, tragically, but that didn’t stop them from releasing an ambitious concept album whose stars aligned in both sound and lyrical themes. Rooted in the enigmatic and mammoth style of post-metal, the grey world it painted with broad sludge brushstrokes portrayed the experiences and perceptions of a child with ASD: “The shape of a city stood in the grayness, like a charcoal drawing sketched across the waste” (“Dark and Gray”). Alongside titles like Amia Venera Landscape’s The Long Procession and Dirge’s Elysian Magnetic Fields, Blindead was included on a long list of post-metal deep cuts that lay below the decade’s surface.
The fifty-four-minute runtime is both a blessing and a curse for Blindead 23: while it allows them the breath to explore all their facets, it drags on the slower moments to a snail’s crawl. While the more hypnotic and dirgelike pieces can be bolstered by an eerie atmosphere (“Immersion II”), they have the potential to drag on for way too long and rob the band of the intensity they have effectively established (“Wither”), and even good tracks can feel a few minutes too long (“Worst Laid Plans”). While range is the name of the game, a few tricks feel too out-of-left-field, such as the bluesy and twangy plucking or jazzy melodies (“Toward the Dark”) or a surprising optimism that clashes with the overall darkness of the debut (“You Are the Universe”). However, this is not Blindead – it’s Blindead 23 – and it’s better that a band explore all avenues instead of just playing it safe.
