Liotta Mays Landing: A Punk Rock Punch to the Gut
Alright, let’s talk about Liotta Mays Landing. It’s this raw, scrappy punk rock album by Liotta, May's Landing—yep, straight outta the US, released under Eyetooth Collective. If you’re into music that feels like it was recorded in someone’s garage (in the best way possible), then buckle up. This thing hits hard, fast, and doesn’t apologize for it.
Now, I gotta shout out two tracks here because they’ve been stuck in my head like gum on a sneaker. First up is “Go.” Man, this song just grabs you by the collar and shakes you awake. The opening riff is all jagged edges and attitude, like a pissed-off teenager kicking over trash cans. But what really gets me is how relentless it feels—you can almost hear the sweat dripping off the instruments. By the time the chorus kicks in, you’re not just listening; you’re living it. It’s chaotic, messy, and kinda beautiful, y’know? Like those moments when life feels too big to handle but also kinda electric at the same time.
Then there’s “Fragments,” which hits different. Where “Go” punches you in the face, this one sneaks up on you with its brooding vibe. The lyrics feel personal, like someone spilling their guts late at night when no one else is around. There’s this one line—I won’t spoil it—but damn, it made me stop mid-scroll and just sit with it for a minute. The guitar work has this haunting quality, like echoes of something you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s not flashy or polished, and that’s exactly why it sticks.
The rest of the album keeps the energy high with tracks like “Could Be” and “Friends,” but honestly, it’s those first two songs that keep pulling me back. They’re not perfect, but maybe that’s the point. Punk isn’t supposed to be shiny or safe—it’s supposed to make you feel something real, even if it’s uncomfortable.
Here’s the weird part though: after listening to this album, I found myself thinking about road trips. Not sure why. Maybe it’s the restless energy, or maybe it’s because these songs sound like the kind of stuff you’d blast driving down some forgotten highway at midnight. Either way, Liotta Mays Landing isn’t just an album—it’s a mood, a moment, a little slice of chaos you didn’t know you needed.
So yeah, give it a spin. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when it worms its way into your brain and refuses to leave.
