Make A Home by Envelope Peasant & The Scientific Orchestra: An Indie Rock Odyssey You Didn’t Know You Needed
Let’s cut to the chase—Make A Home is one of those albums that sneaks up on you like a cat in socks. Released back in 2012 under Lather Records, this indie rock gem from Sean Harrasser (the mastermind behind Envelope Peasant & The Scientific Orchestra) feels less like an album and more like a road trip through small towns, big skies, and weird roadside attractions. It’s not perfect—but honestly? That’s kinda the charm.
The vibe here is raw yet polished enough to keep your ears interested. Think crunchy guitars, thoughtful lyrics, and melodies that stick around longer than last week's leftovers. And while all eleven tracks bring something unique to the table, two songs really stood out for me: “St. Louis, MO” and “Rain Dances With Metal.”
“St. Louis, MO” kicks things off with a punchy energy that screams midwestern grit without taking itself too seriously. There’s something about the way it balances grungy riffs with moments of introspection—it’s like driving down I-70 at sunset, windows down, yelling at no one in particular about life choices. The chorus hits hard but doesn’t overstay its welcome, which is refreshing. Plus, who can resist a track named after a city known for toasted ravioli and questionable weather?
Then there’s “Rain Dances With Metal,” which sounds exactly as chaotic and beautiful as the title suggests. This song has layers—like an onion or maybe lasagna if you’re into food metaphors. One minute it’s heavy and brooding; the next, it lightens up just enough to let some sunlight peek through. By the time the instrumental break rolls around, you’ll either be air-drumming furiously or questioning every decision that led you to listen to this album alone in your car. Either way, it works.
Other standouts include “Forget About California,” because who hasn’t fantasized about ghosting the Golden State at least once? And “Make A Home,” the titular track, wraps everything up with a bittersweet bow. It’s the kind of song that makes you want to hug someone…or maybe cry quietly in the shower. Your call.
What I love most about Make A Home is how unapologetically human it feels. Sure, the production could’ve used a bit more polish, and yeah, some transitions between tracks feel like switching lanes too quickly on a highway. But these quirks give the album personality—a rare find in today’s sea of overly produced playlists.
So, would I recommend this record? Absolutely. Just don’t expect perfection. Instead, think of it as hanging out with an old friend who tells great stories but occasionally spills beer on themselves. Imperfect? Yes. Memorable? Hell yes.
Final thought: If aliens ever invade Earth and ask us to explain indie rock, I’m handing them a copy of Make A Home. Because if they don’t get it after listening to “Rain Dances With Metal,” we’re probably doomed anyway.
