The self-titled debut from Brooklyn’s own mop is exactly what happens when you decide that “pretending everything is fine” is far too much cardiovascular exercise. Fronted by Laura Jean Anderson, this record is a gloriously mossy descent into the kind of 90s-coded grunge that makes you want to buy a flannel shirt just so you can weep into the sleeves. It’s gritty, it’s mangy, and it’s arguably the best thing to come out of Brooklyn since artisanal water, providing a perfect soundtrack for anyone whose primary hobby is staring at a water-damaged ceiling and feeling deep, unearned nostalgia.
The tracklist is a curated journey through emotional turbulence, starting with ‘save yourself’, which serves as a polite warning that the listener is about to enter a high-gravity zone of feelings. If you manage to survive that, ‘shadow girl’ slows things down just enough to make sure you’re properly immersed in the gloom, featuring the kind of haunting vocals that suggest the shadows are actually winning. For those who prefer their existential dread with a side of travelogue, ‘olympia nights’ offers a sonic escape that feels like a cold, rainy walk through a city you’ve never been to but suddenly miss anyway.
Ultimately, mop has delivered an album that is as infectious as it is deathly allergic to toxic positivity. It’s the perfect companion for those days when your plants are dying, and your phone is at 2%, yet you still feel like the protagonist of a very gritty indie film. Whether you’re picking up the cassette to prove how analog your soul is or just streaming it while you ignore your emails, this record is a definitive win for anyone who likes their rock and roll served with a heavy side of “not okay, but making it work.”
Links of interest:
https://www.instagram.com/mop.rips/
https://moprips.bandcamp.com/album/mop