Punchlove Deliver Tangible, Hypnotic Melancholy on Channels

The recent revival of shoegaze reads like a mythical tale. It began as a relatively insulated genre that gained traction in the early ’90s with the rise of bands such as my bloody valentine, Ride and Slowdive, before falling into a smaller, more obscure space by the turn of the century. A steadfast following within indie rock circles kept the spirit of shoegaze alive during its darker years, though, and albums like Loveless and Souvlaki became preserved culturally and transfigured into well-known classics.

A subtle upward shift began in the 2010s, as interest in the genre renewed. A new generation of listeners who immersed themselves in genres such as bedroom pop and indie rock began to connect with the primal sounds of shoegaze: a dense, ethereal blend of swirling guitars and plummeting riffs.

Entering the 2020s, the meteoric rise of shoegaze on popular social media platforms felt unpredictable and exciting. According to research from Stereogum, Spotify shared statistics that daily searches for shoegaze increased 220% globally from November 2022 to November 2023. Rising bands such as Parannoul, Wednesday and Hotline TNT became tangible examples of acts sculpting the genre into their own image, creating contemporary and varied works that reflect the recent evolution of shoegaze in their genre-blending and experimentation.

Punchlove, a breakthrough band hailing from Brooklyn, is creating a distinct and raucous blend of shoegaze and indie-rock made for the internet age. Composed of Jillian Olesen, Ethan Williams, Joey Machina, Ian Lange-McPherson and visual artist Viz Wel, the band centers itself around an electrifying and buzzy sound that is always in motion: flexing, contorting, sauntering and sprinting throughout the tracklist of their debut album, Channels. They sing of the tumultuous journey into coming of age with a slow-burning agency; the journey of Punchlove as a band mirrors that of the genre itself, starting from a small and condensed bedroom project featuring only Olesen and Williams to an immense, sweeping sonic force.

Channels opens with “Locusts,” a short instrumental introduction immersed in a muted fog of static noise that launches into “Breeze.” A prolonged, distorted riff builds upon itself at the start of the track with rumbling percussion, piercing guitars and ascending vocals, cleverly evolving the track’s sense of space—expanding and condensing at will with a heart stopping suddenness. All at once, the instrumentation drops into a sparse and tension-filled chasm with only flashes of rigid bass filling the void at times. A series of punchy, accented chords at the end of the track dissolve into a thin celestial haze that seamlessly ties into the beginning of “Screwdriver.”

The transitions between songs on the album flicker and crackle like watching someone flip through TV channels at lightning speed, creating an enthralling and transitory kaleidoscope of varied sound that evokes the eclectic nature of early Sonic Youth. The throbbing ending measures of “Birdsong” mutates into a scattered and frantic beat that shifts into “Guilt” without hesitation. Despite the sonic contrasts between these sections, the transition is breathtaking. The seamlessness helps to create an incredibly cohesive and uniform album with a pervading fluidity and tightness in its quick pacing.

“Screwdriver” is a snappy and commanding track that ruminates on the brain’s ability to alter memories over time. A glitched out rift breaks through the speedy instrumental right in the middle of the runtime, creating a quaking tension as you hold onto every phrase in case it abruptly shifts. Each part of the album embodies this fleeting nature, with phrases constantly extending into new exhilarating evolutions.

The deliberate yet unrestrained “Pigeon” wanders through a lush backdrop decorated with clear, warbling guitar. Olesen’s emotive, drawn out vocals linger on “Oh life, please bring me somewhere other than here / You know that staying is my greatest fear / Oh life, won’t you bring me somewhere far away / And promise me tomorrow’s better than today.”

Tracks like “Apartment,” “Dead Lands” and “Elapse” continue to showcase Punchlove’s penchant for playing with texture and space. “Apartment” is adorned with twinkling guitar riffs laced with floating, feathery vocals that expand into a ragged yet grandiose cacophony of blooming, contorted instrumentation. The massive and looming intensity of the percussion pushes and shoves the track to its ending. “Dead Lands” alternates between sparse and dense passages enriched by delicate vocal harmonies and a ringing guitar solo, while “Elapse” is a bit heavier in its warped, grungy sequence that curves and snakes its way through tight, condensed phrases.

“Guilt” recalls a more traditional shoegaze structure with an edge of rousing grittiness. Glossy, soaring vocals and elongated trilling guitar contrast themselves against the earthy and grounded instrumentation, all steeped in a gravely consistency. Lyrically, the track details a maddening cycle of guilt, as Olesen sings,“It always hurts most the moment I wake / Slowly suffocated by the air of mistakes / Now I can’t breathe like I could breathe before / Like heavier gravity, pull me to the floor.”

Channels concludes with “Corridor.” An unassuming acoustic guitar leads the sparse beginning of track before expanding into a miraculous, rippling symphony of electric sound rife with rich vocal harmonies. Olesen’s vocals rise into a luminous, heady tone and fall into a contemplative low register with ease throughout the track, singing “We’ve waited in this hall / Door-lined and candlelit / When we finally found the keys / They no longer fit.” The final moment of the album exudes a tangible sense of melancholy that is hypnotic and heartbreaking.

With Channels, Punchlove offer us one of the most compelling and inventive shoegaze debuts in recent memory. The band’s experimental and stirring blend of blazing instrumentation and poetic lyricism will deeply resonate with a new generation of shoegaze enthusiasts. It’s fiery and pensive all at once, clocking in at a rapturous, breakneck pace.