Nobody’s reinventing the wheel on ‘Nature’s Pill’, but are having a whale of a time rolling it downhill. Following 2024’s debut ‘Triple Seven’ and last year’s ‘Planet Popstar’ EP, the Indianapolis five-piece return with a second album that’s more collaborative and more intentional, half of it tracked live in LA alongside producer Ben Lumsdaine. It’s a lively rummage through the indie attic: big on hooks, generous with fuzz and, if we’re being honest, a touch light on fingerprints.
Opener ‘All The Rage’ sets the tone, a surge of bouncy jangle-punk whose powerchord glee recalls Martha at their most cheerful, with a faint whiff of 80s Scottish jangle-pop in the chiming guitars. It’s sugary, upbeat and almost impossible to dislike, and for a good while the album keeps that momentum rolling.
The engine room, as ever, is the pairing of and . Their chemistry is unmistakable on record, voices looping around one another with the ease of old friends, and songs like ‘Shift’ and ‘You’re Not Serious’ are pure kitchen-dancing fodder. The band behind them sound loose and locked-in, a group comfortable in each other’s company after heavy touring. It’s an accessible sort of record, too, one that makes you think you and a mate could hammer it out in a room. Lyrically, heartbreak and romantic frustration are spiked with cheek rather than wallowed in (Pitchkites has cheerfully called it “historical fiction”), which keeps the mood buoyant even when the subject matter isn’t.
The trouble is that ‘Nature’s Pill’ is a smorgasbord of 90s tones and touchstones, and the references keep tapping you on the shoulder. The woozy strum of ‘Mona Lisa’ calls to mind Yuck, that great band who slowly faded after a banging debut. ‘Covergirl’ staggers in with a drunken, hazy swagger; think Medicine, with some My Bloody Valentine drums thrown in for good measure. Most distracting is ‘Sensational’, which nods a little too closely to in its opening before switching to Ultra Naté’s club banger ‘Free’ for the chorus. Whether that’s an accident or affectionate homage, for a 90s kid like this writer it’s hard to un-hear.
Happily, there’s a clear standout. ‘Lovesick’ is a sparkling little gem of a three-and-a-half-minute love song, all soaring guitars and singalong lyrics, and it lets Krauter and Pitchkites’ shared vocal duties truly shine. It sounds like a 1991 single, no doubt about it, but it’s a damn fine pop song, and the one place where the band’s shoegaze, grunge and jangle instincts balance perfectly.
That balance matters, because the grunge and shoegaze flannel revival is getting crowded. It’s not that the songs are weak; it’s that so many bands are mining this same seam that charm alone no longer cuts it. Recreating Kevin Shields’ guitar magic or Teenage Fanclub’s bubblegum fuzz simply isn’t enough to stand out any more, and there’s rarely a song here that doesn’t remind you of somebody else.
Still, this is a confident, good-time record, and there’s enough promise and magic on show to suggest Wishy could really smash it next time out. The raw ingredients are all here: the hooks, the harmonies, the chemistry. Find a voice that’s entirely their own and the party could properly begin.
6/10