Intro to India’s Self-Titled EP: A Forgotten Gem from ‘98 That Still Hits Weirdly Right
Let’s get one thing straight—this isn’t your typical rock album. Released way back in 1998 by Lounge Records, Intro to India is the kind of record that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. It's got all the hallmarks of late-’90s indie rock but with a twist that dips its toes into shoegaze and alt-rock territory. And honestly? That weird combo works.
The band hails from the US, and while they might not have blown up like some of their peers (RIP Lounge Records), this little EP has stuck around in my brain like an earworm I didn’t know I needed. Tracks like “The Saddest Of All Keys” and “Lily Eyes” are burned into my memory for reasons I can’t fully explain. Maybe it’s because they feel like sonic time capsules, or maybe it’s just because they’re kinda messy in the best possible way.
Take “The Saddest Of All Keys,” for example. This track hits you with layers of fuzzy guitars that sound like someone cranked the reverb knob till it broke. The vocals sit somewhere between dreamy and distant, almost as if the singer doesn’t want you to hear them too clearly—and yet, you find yourself leaning in anyway. There’s something haunting about how the melody lingers long after the song ends. It’s moody without being overdramatic, which feels rare even now. If sadness had a soundtrack, this would be it.
Then there’s “Lily Eyes.” Oh man, where do I even start? This one’s more immediate, sharper-edged than its predecessor. The opening riff grabs hold of you right away, refusing to let go. What stands out most, though, is the interplay between the instruments—it’s chaotic but controlled, like watching fireworks explode in slow motion. You think you’ve got it figured out, then BAM, another layer reveals itself. By the time the last note fades, you're left wondering what just happened—and wanting to hit replay immediately.
The rest of the EP—“Twilight,” “Telecosmic,” and “Insect Dream”—keeps the vibe going strong. Each track brings its own flavor to the table, whether it’s the hypnotic swirl of synths in “Twilight” or the jittery energy of “Insect Dream.” But those first two tracks? They’re the ones I keep coming back to, over and over again.
So here’s the thing: Intro to India probably won’t change your life. It’s not perfect; sometimes it feels like the production could’ve used another pass, and yeah, the lyrics lean toward abstract rather than profound. But none of that matters much once the music sinks its claws into you. It’s raw, unpolished, and refreshingly human—an accidental masterpiece hiding in plain sight.
And hey, isn’t that what makes discovering old albums so fun? Sometimes you stumble across something small and strange, only to realize it’s exactly what you needed. Like finding a forgotten mixtape at a garage sale and realizing it was made just for you. Who knew a little-known EP from 1998 could still pack such a punch?
Final thought: If aliens ever invade Earth, I hope they listen to “Lily Eyes” before deciding our fate. Something tells me they’d approve.
