Hitting play on Brood22‘s new EP, “just past the exit with the truck stop”, is like flicking on your high beams on a pitch-black desert highway. It cuts through the void between Tucson’s heat haze and Portland’s perpetual drizzle. This ain’t music you hear; it’s a landscape you inhabit. A desolate, beautiful, fucked-up stretch of sonic highway where loneliness hums in the power lines and release hits like a sudden, fuzzed-out lightning strike.
Straight out of the Northwest’s slacker-slowcore scene, Brood22’s building these around spiralling self-isolation and that exhausting cycle of behaviour we all know too well. This EP is not background music you throw on while doing dishes. It’s a chronicle – like someone’s sonic diary about finding themselves and deliberately (sometimes painfully) cutting off toxic people and crushing habits. The whole thing’s deeply personal, sparked by unresolved feelings that bubbled up during a trip back to Tucson, Arizona. The title came to them driving through their hometown at night, capturing that specific, movie-like loneliness – you know that weird space just past your exit, where there’s nothing but harsh truck stop lights? That’s the vibe, and it perfectly sets up the introspective journey you’re about to take.
Brood22’s Arizona roots run deep through this EP. They’ve packed up the desert’s massive, isolating emptiness and that weird tension you feel when it’s just too damn hot. Picture those endless spaces turned into reverb-soaked slide guitar and folksy textures – they’re basically painting you a sonic desert. But here’s what caught us off guard: this isn’t your typical mellow slowcore. The band takes this “slow burn” thing seriously on most tracks, pulling you into this trance with hypnotic repetition and deadened sounds. Then – wham! Just like the desert’s wild mood swings, they hit you with bursts of distorted, fuzzy riffs and soaring leads that tear through the calm like sudden lightning storms. This push and pull between holding back and letting loose nails what they’re going for: someone who looks reserved on the outside but is wrestling with intense stuff underneath.
- hedonismbot: The EP kicks off not with a roar, but with a compelling, percussive throb. It’s an immersive, almost eerie opener. Brood22 says this was their toughest track to nail, built from separately recorded rhythmic pieces they had to painstakingly sync up. That’s some serious dedication hiding beneath their slacker vibe. The song builds subtly before finishing unexpectedly big – basically setting up the whole dynamic for the rest of the EP.
- this again: Pure, languid melancholy just drips from this one. It’s where Brood22 really shows off their gift for restraint. They keep the instrumentation sparse, letting those cyclical thoughts and unresolved feelings hang heavy in the air. The guitars moan and drone with this palpable tension – it’s beautifully desolate.
- genderless fuck monster: Don’t let that jarring title throw you off. This track throws in some unexpected whimsy right into the EP’s somber core. It shows Brood22 can shift gears without losing their signature texture – proof that they’re not just one-note when it comes to emotions. It’s this vital burst of idiosyncratic energy that the album needs.
- bottle of sleep: They call it a “lullaby,” and honestly? That’s spot on. This one leans hard into the EP’s trance-inducing qualities. It’s like a moment of quiet surrender – this hazy drift through exhaustion or maybe just the need to escape. Those “restrained and deadened sounds” Brood22 loves? They create this powerful sense of quiet desperation here.
- funnel web: The EP’s closer brings the most overtly rocky bite we’ve heard yet. It doesn’t end with a whimper – instead, you get this surge of gritty energy. The fuzzed-out guitars take centre stage, giving us a final release from all that tension. It’s a highlight, and it leaves you with a lasting sting.
What makes “just past the exit with the truck stop” not another slowcore album is how they’re putting it all out there. Dead-end jobs, messy relationships, that feeling when your hometown’s slowly choking you out – it’s all here, raw and cage-free. This willingness to document breaking free from toxic cycles and finding yourself? That’s what pulls you in. It turns what could’ve been just an interesting listen into something you feel in your bones. Like Brood22 says, songwriting’s become their “artistic extension of journaling,” and this EP captures them working through some heavy stuff. Sure, by the time they hit record, the emotions had cooled a bit – giving them space to look back with fresh eyes – but man, you can still feel every bit of it.
“just past the exit with the truck stop” is music for those late-night drives when you can’t sleep. For when you’re stuck thinking too hard. For when you feel trapped in the same old patterns and you’re dying to break out. Brood22‘s done something special here. They’ve made a slow-burner that shows holding back can hit just as hard as screaming your lungs out. That’s rock ‘n’ roll, baby. You can catch them stirring things up in Portland this summer, and definitely keep an ear out for their full-length album. Since this EP’s the spark, that album’s gonna be an absolute inferno.