Crooked House by Rain Children: A Sonic Trip Through Shadows and Static
Alright, buckle up, because Crooked House is one of those albums that feels like it crawled out of a dream you’re not sure you want to wake up from. Released in 2018 by Brazilian rockers Rain Children, this thing smashes together Alternative Rock, Post-Punk, Coldwave, and Goth Rock with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer wrapped in velvet. It’s dark, moody, and kinda genius—like if Bauhaus had a baby with The Cure but decided to raise it on bootleg Joy Division tapes.
Let’s talk tracks for a sec, shall we? There are eleven songs here, each weirder and more memorable than the last, but two really stuck in my brain like gum under a chair: “Dead Doll” and “Night Dreaming.”
“Dead Doll” kicks things off with a vibe so goth it might as well be wearing fishnets and eyeliner. The bassline slinks around like it owns the joint while Gina Stone’s vocals hover somewhere between haunting and hypnotic. You know when someone tells you they’re fine, but you can tell they’re absolutely NOT fine? That’s this song. It’s got layers, man. Layers of existential dread served cold.
Then there’s “Night Dreaming,” which sounds exactly how insomnia feels—restless, shadowy, and just a little bit dangerous. Stuart Harbut’s guitar work here is sharp enough to cut glass, and the whole thing builds into this swirling crescendo that makes your chest tighten. Like, what even IS this track? Is it about love? Fear? Losing your mind at 3 AM? Who knows, but damn does it stick with you.
The rest of the album keeps the momentum going strong. Tracks like “I Am Your Machine” and “Swimming With Clouds” showcase Rain Children’s knack for blending brooding lyrics with catchy hooks. And let’s give props where they’re due—the production is tight without being over-polished, thanks to Rain Children pulling double duty as both songwriter AND producer. Hats off to them (and maybe their therapist).
Oh, and quick shoutout to Anna Anderton Art for the photography creds. Whoever said visuals don’t matter clearly hasn’t seen an album cover that perfectly matches the vibe inside. This one looks like it was shot in the backroom of a haunted nightclub—perfectly capturing the eerie energy of the music.
Now, I gotta say something kinda random here: listening to Crooked House made me realize how much I miss walking alone at night with headphones on. Not because I’m some angsty teenager anymore, but because this album demands solitude. It’s not background noise; it’s a full-on experience. Put it on, turn off the lights, and let it swallow you whole.
So yeah, Crooked House isn’t perfect—it’s too weird to ever hit mainstream radio—but honestly, that’s its charm. It’s messy, raw, and unapologetically itself. And honestly? In a world full of cookie-cutter playlists, sometimes you need an album that reminds you life is strange, beautiful, and just a little bit broken.
Final thought: If David Lynch ever needs a soundtrack for his next fever dream project, he should call Rain Children immediately. Deal?
