MonteMadeIt’s New Album: A Sonic Rollercoaster That Sticks
Alright, let’s talk about MonteMadeIt’s latest drop. This album is like walking into a room where someone’s simultaneously baking cookies, breaking plates, and whispering secrets in your ear. It’s messy, raw, and somehow still hits all the right notes. Monte didn’t come to play it safe—they came to shake things up.
First off, there’s this track called “Static Dreams.” Oh man, this one got me. The beat kicks in like an old car engine sputtering to life—gritty but full of character. Then Monte layers these haunting synths over it that feel like nostalgia wrapped in aluminum foil. You know those moments when you’re zoning out during a road trip and suddenly everything feels kinda magical? That’s what this song does. Halfway through, there’s this unexpected vocal loop—a chopped-up phrase repeating like a ghost stuck on rewind—and dang, it gave me goosebumps. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to dance or cry, so I just sat there staring at my wall for a solid five minutes.
Then there’s “Neon Jungle,” which slaps harder than your ex’s new relationship status. The bassline is so thick you could spread it on toast, and Monte throws in these sharp, staccato hi-hats that make you wanna nod your head even if you’re trying to act cool. What really stuck with me though was the outro—it fades out with this eerie bird call sample that sounds like Mother Nature herself decided to DJ. Weird flex, but it works. By the time the track ends, you’re left wondering if you just heard a banger or got lost in some trippy fever dream.
What’s wild about this album is how Monte doesn’t try too hard to impress anyone. They let the music breathe, stumble, and scream when it needs to. Sure, not every track lands perfectly (looking at you, “Midnight Napkin”), but even the misses add flavor to the overall vibe. It’s like Monte said, “Here’s my soul, take it or leave it,” and honestly? I’m taking it.
So yeah, MonteMadeIt might not be reinventing the wheel here, but they sure as heck slapped some fresh paint on it and gave it spinners. Listening to this album feels like finding a crumpled-up note in your pocket years later—it’s imperfect, surprising, and kinda beautiful in its own way. Now excuse me while I go figure out why I suddenly crave cookies and existential dread.
