You think you know what indie rock sounds like in 2026? You don’t. Not until you’ve had art pop punch you square in the jaw with “housecAt”. This Austin-based duo—brothers Max and Miles Grossenbacher—built this thing in Airbnbs, bedrooms, and God knows where else, using nothing but iPhones and MacBook mics. And you know what? It sounds glorious.
Let’s get this straight. Max and Miles are brothers who’ve been kicking around projects for years, and housecAt is them finally saying “screw it” and throwing everything at the wall. This isn’t some slick studio affair with a producer breathing down their necks. This is two dudes who took previously worked songs from their vault and completely tore them apart. Rebuilt ’em as indie house rock hybrids. The kind of stuff you’d hear in the saddest club on earth—the one where you’re dancing your ass off while fighting back tears.
From the opening seconds of “sunrise 4 suckers,” you’re hit with this hazy, lo-fi fog that sounds like it’s recorded inside a washing machine—but in the best way possible. The Grossenbacher brothers weaponized their cheap gear. Reverb and distortion aren’t mistakes here; they’re the point. This is DIY punk attitude smuggled into dance beats.
Then there’s “the party’s never over (and i feel alive right now…)“—and here’s where art pop shows some serious guts. It shows up early as this classic indie pop rock cut. Straightforward. Almost normal. But then? The madlads bring it back at the end of the album completely wrecked. Glitched out. Cut up into a frantic dance beat that sounds like it’s having a panic attack on the dancefloor. Themes coming back at you through a different lens, twisted and raw.
“but the sad kitty don’t dance” and “we r rebels” keep that tension going. You’ve got club-ready rhythms sitting right next to lyrics that feel withdrawn, numb, detached. This ain’t euphoric house music. This is 2AM introspection under flickering strobes while the floor is sticky and your head’s a mess.
Look, touching Phoebe Bridgers is risky territory. Her fans are intense. But art pop said “screw it” and took “a waiting room” —that acoustic gut-punch—and turned it into “a waiting room (kibbles N bits remix).” Synths layered in. Dance beats driving it. They didn’t treat it gently. They rebuilt it colder, more mechanical, and somehow it still hits. Doesn’t replace the original. Just reframes it. Like remembering heartbreak through a different filter.
housecAt takes influence from Porches, James Blake, and 100 gecs—you can hear that hyperpop unpredictability, that sense that any second the whole thing could glitch out or collapse. But art pop makes it their own. The reversed sections, the distortion-heavy mix, the structural callbacks… none of it’s gimmicks. It’s their language.
Is it messy? Hell yes. Is it for everyone? Not a chance. But that’s the whole damn point. This is rock music that isn’t afraid to dance. It’s house music that isn’t afraid to bleed. Max and Miles Grossenbacher built something ugly and beautiful, and you should blast it loud.
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