Needle Point by Hoarse: A Jagged Little Gem You Didn’t Know You Needed
Alright, let’s talk about Needle Point, the latest drop from Hoarse, out now on Step One Records. This album is like that one thrift store find you didn’t think you needed but ended up wearing every other day. It’s raw, unfiltered, and kinda messy in all the right ways—like a late-night conversation with an old friend who still knows how to surprise you.
First off, let me hit you with “Static Love,” track three. Man, this one sticks to your ribs. The opening riff sounds like it was recorded in someone’s garage during a power outage, but somehow it works? There’s this gritty guitar line that feels like sandpaper on your soul, and when the vocals kick in, they’re not polished or perfect—but damn if they don’t feel real. Like, REAL real. By the second chorus, I was mouthing the words like I’d known them my whole life. And maybe that’s the magic of Hoarse—they make songs that sound lived-in, even if it’s your first listen.
Then there’s “Ghost Town Radio,” which hits different. Picture this: a lazy Sunday afternoon where nothing’s going right, and then this track comes on shuffle. Suddenly, everything clicks into place. The drumbeat has this loose, almost stumbling rhythm, like it’s trying to keep up but doesn’t really care if it fails. But oh, those lyrics! They’re haunting without being over-the-top dramatic, painting pictures of empty streets and forgotten dreams. Halfway through, there’s this weird little synth break that shouldn’t work at all, but somehow it does. Feels like finding a hidden room in a house you thought you knew inside out.
What I love most about Needle Point is its refusal to play it safe. Hoarse isn’t here for perfection; they’re chasing something deeper, messier, more human. Some tracks drag a bit (looking at you, “Faded Echo”), but honestly? That just adds to the charm. It’s not supposed to be flawless—it’s supposed to feel alive.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to this album made me realize how much we crave imperfection these days. Everything’s so filtered, edited, and spit-shined that hearing something this untamed feels revolutionary. Or maybe I’m just romanticizing noise. Either way, Needle Point will stay stuck in my head longer than I expected—and honestly, I’m cool with that.
P.S. If Hoarse ever tours, I’m bringing earplugs AND an open mind. Deal?
