Slow Pulp’s ‘Melodie’ is Unafraid To Look Back
“Dumb and nineteen / Did you think that I would forget about it now?” Emily Massey, frontman of Slow Pulp, kindly implores on “Yellow and Green,” the opening track of their latest album, Melodie. To a passive listener, the track seems to address an ominous figure in the singer’s life she can’t seem to shake. But to longtime listeners of the band, the track’s title serves as an ode to the Green Bay Packers, the band’s hometown football team. Massey’s reminiscent words point inward –– to her fellow bandmates who are also her decade-old friends. It’s why her arrival at the final verse tugs on all the heartstrings: “Dumb and ninety / I know I would never forget about you now.”
Formed in Madison, Wisconsin, Emily Massey (lead singer, guitarist), Henry Stoehr (guitarist), Teddy Matthews (drummer), and Alex Leeds (bassist) grew up in the thick of the 2000s indie wave. An appreciation for ‘90s alt-rock radio marked the band's genesis and ultimately shaped their expansive, nostalgic approach to rock music. A move to Chicago and the release of Moveys (2020) and Yard (2023) quickly cemented their status as indie-rock stalwarts.
Yet, the band’s in-between life experiences and relationships over the last couple of years have helmed the thesis of their newest project, Melodie. While a sudden move back to Wisconsin led Massey to write separately from the band for the last two albums, Massey and Stoehr take the reins on the lyrics together this time around. The undeniable synergy and mutual respect between the bandmates led to a brilliant 11-track exploration of rediscovery and regrowth, both within themselves and towards one another.
“There’s the sense of a full circle, tapping back into things and transforming through them,” Stoehr describes Melodie. He carries the same sentiment for songwriting, believing that it is “not just a document of what you feel but also a vehicle for understanding how you feel.” This complete trust and freedom to lean into vulnerable pockets of their lives during the writing process didn’t blossom overnight. Massey and Stoehr’s long history of friendship played a pivotal role in the clarity, grit, and honesty woven into Melodie’s storytelling.
Neither person’s outlook or emotions ever took precedence over the other’s, a quality that makes this project a standout album in their discography. Such reverence beats through “Better Man,” where Stoehr’s cuttingly introspective lyrics are powerfully sung by Massey: “Did I fuck it up again? / Maybe leave it to a better man / Who can tell himself this is how it's supposed to be.” The pounding opening riffs are Stoehr smacking the strings of his guitar to mimic a boxing bell, setting the scene as he enters the ring against the man he wishes to become.
“Melodie” takes on a Joan Jett and the Blackhearts opening, where fuzzy riffs exploding into a two-minute frenzy of distorted guitars built for live-show head thrashing. The band sounds sharper than ever before, crisp at every instrumental turn as Massey’s voice skates across the track’s rampant, flashy progressions.
Produced for the first time by an outsider, Elliot Kozel took the band’s sonic foundation up a notch, alongside Stoehr’s visionary guidance. As a result, a punchy song like “Red Car” maintains the rhythmic high of the album’s opening, but finds itself still tinged with underlying uncertainty. Massey settles into a lower register as she treads across Leeds’ guttural basslines, ruminating on the crossroads she’s stumbled upon in her relationship: is she ready to take the next leap? “When did you get like this? / You seem so sure of yourself,” she asks with shaky hands hiding behind her back. Matthew’s nimble drumming closes in on Massey’s apprehensive lyrics, leaving no room for her to catch her breath.
Through all this, her partner’s palms sit steady on the wheel. “Red Car” is what Slow Pulp does best and with complete finesse –– pulling you into raw, intimate places that are draped with upbeat melodies. The track's assured, snappy tone doesn’t mean she’s any closer to certainty about where she is in the relationship. Instead, she clings to doubt even as she agrees to break down her walls: “Would you say it all makes sense / I guess I could try again.”
“Not for Nothing” reveals another facet of the band’s impressive range. Echoes of a pattering piano and sullen banjo strums by Kozel waltz around the heart-wrenching acceptance behind Massey’s drawls: “Oh learning how to let go of you / That's the hardest part for me to get through.” To love is to let go, and Stoehr can't change his feelings about the relationship. Allowing himself to sink deeper into the reality of his emotions was the first step; the second was understanding that the life they shared before its final breath wasn’t for nothing: “I don't wanna let go of you / I’ll just hold on till the sun comes out.”
In “Entertainer,” we watch Massey grapple with her feelings about the inner entertainer she tries to keep dormant. “I can’t let you go back to me / I don’t think I'd know what it’d mean,” she lightly pleads, when only a few lines prior she was found searching for her: “Did you eat today / Or did you sleep okay?”
“Like Me” drowns in shoegaze crackle as Massey’s refrains pull you into a trance in the final thirty seconds, while “Slip Away” hammers the last track in on a note of heavy introspection and healing. Stripped back to its bare bones, the latter is an ache to retreat from the world in our lowest points. “Afraid of all the things that I might say / Maybe I should be alone,” Stoehr admits through Massey’s soulful delivery, which stands tall at the forefront. Glittering, hopeful guitars shower down on the album’s culminating song despite its somber lyrics.
It’s a hand reaching out from the core of every Slow Pulp song, offering retreat to a place we often try to suppress. It’s the only way to mend old wounds, and Stoehr knows that as he journeys to excavate the past.
Listen to Slow Pulp’s third studio album, Melodie, available now on all streaming platforms. The band will kick off their North American Tour in October. Get tickets here.
