Salty EP by White Lift: A Raw Indie Rock Punch from Switzerland
Alright, let’s get straight to it. Salty EP by White Lift isn’t just another indie rock record—it's a gritty middle finger to polished mediocrity. Hailing from Switzerland (yeah, that place known more for chocolate than chaos), this five-track beast brings the noise with raw energy and unapologetic attitude. Released under It’s Time To… Records, the album feels like someone took a rusty crowbar to your ears—and trust me, you’ll love every second of it.
First off, props where they’re due: Producer Patrick De Rham and mixer/master Glenn Miller didn’t sand down the rough edges here—they sharpened them. The result? An EP that sounds like it was recorded in some sweaty basement but hits harder than most studio-perfect albums.
Now, onto the tracks. “Subaquatic” kicks things off with a punch-you-in-the-face riff that doesn’t let up. It’s messy, loud, and dripping with distortion—basically everything good music should be. There’s something about the way the vocals claw their way through the mix that sticks with you. Not perfect? Hell no. But perfection is boring, and this track knows it. Then there’s “Salt,” which slaps so hard I had to rewind it three times just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. The bassline groans like it’s carrying the weight of the world, while the drums smash together like broken glass. Lyrically, it’s cryptic as hell, but who cares when it makes you want to scream along?
The other tracks—“Poster,” “The Weather... Joe!,” and “Charlotte’s Day Off”—aren’t exactly filler, but they don’t hit quite as hard. Still, they keep the momentum alive, weaving between moody introspection and aggressive outbursts. If anything, they show that White Lift can flex different muscles without losing their edge.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to Salty EP feels like being punched in the gut by someone who genuinely likes you. Sure, it’s rough around the edges, and yeah, maybe it could use a bit more polish—but why fix what ain’t broke? This EP reminds us why indie rock matters: it’s real, it’s raw, and it doesn’t give two shits about fitting in.
Final thought? Somewhere out there, Glenn Miller and Patrick De Rham are probably sipping coffee thinking, "Damn, we nailed this." And honestly? They did. Now go blast “Salt” on repeat until your neighbors hate you—or start a band themselves.
