MOULD - 'Almost Feels Like Purpose' EP

A tale of almost there, just not enough.

I'm no art expert (or much of a music one either...), but collages have always felt or seemed stuck somehow. They're not this grand melding, but rather trapped between ideas, influences, and outcomes. It's fitting, then, that MOULD would slap just such an intense, slightly unsettling collage atop their latest EP, Almost Feels Like Purpose. Because, with the volume cranked waaay up, the six-track project is trapped in ambers of the emotional, social, and cultural variety. The title alone indicates some level of cognitive disconnect, as if they're almost at a turning point but can't/won't connect those final strands. It's a sense furthered across the EP's emotional content. "Snails" is the grossest (slime trails!) but most effective Peter Pan-ian lamentation I've heard in some time (a feat if you regularly review punk music). And "Chunks" shifts that sentiment from the deeply personal to this species-wide sense of fecklessness (without removing the stinging intimacy). Sure, the dynamic is somewhat less evident sonically: "Frances" toes the line between garage and dance punk in a way that's dumb luck over prescience, and "Brace" and "Wheeze" each achieve delightfully peppy undertones (the latter screams "schoolyard Oasis!") But, once again, the whole halfway there/in-but-also-out thing just fits this EP’s vibe so utterly perfect. So, aside from a catchy case of arrested development, how do mere vibes translate into some grand, overarching message? If we’re to believe "Temps," it's maybe that all of this too shall pass, and MOULD and the Earth at-large will finally evolve into better-functioning primates. Only that song feels more like self-soothing than a final narrative stand; MOULD either don't have answers or couldn't be bothered to actually share. (Totes. On. Brand.) That, friends, is where we circle back to the collage shtick. Purposefully or not, MOULD have tossed our species up on the wall for everyone to ogle. We're collectively trapped — between nostalgia and a yearning for the future; old bad habits and the promise of maturity; and transcendence versus further stumbling. The band may or may not believe in themselves or mankind to ever make a meaningful change, but they capture this extra peculiar moment in time with an intensity, wit, and courage that makes it hard to deny this record's sharp observations. Because whether you identify with the macro and/or the micro, MOULD have rubbed our faces in this shared sense of perpetual dreaming, half-cocked self-awareness, and a tendency to relish our existential boorishness. But, hey, they're right there with us under those jagged punk rock push pins, offering us searing honesty wrapped in brash hooks that land with both a physical and spiritual weight. It's all part of a little art piece I like to call, "How to be deeply, grossly human in 2025."

7.9/10: You’re wasting so much time (and also having so much fun).

LIYL: Protomartyr, The Dirtbombs, and actively not paying back your student loans.

Get The Album Here.