The Best Local Records We Heard This April

By Kelton Sears

"Recently relocated to Seattle from Denton, Texas, Sundae Crush has delivered a LP that could easily have been called Hushed. It’s a gentle, quiet, soothing record—the kind of cozy bedroom pop you play underneath the blankets while it rains outside your window, or while you’re picnicking in your backyard on a sunny day. But there’s something a little weirder and fuzzier around the edges of Crushed than there is in its mid-2000s twee forebears. Under its bright and shiny exterior is a lot of sadness and anxiety—truly reflecting the dual meanings of its title. Take “Chat Room Messages,” which begins with the whispered, pared-down whimsy of a lovestruck Belle and Sebastian song before revealing itself as a story about total disappointment. “Hey you don’t know/I read, your chatroom messages,” the song goes, “Okay well never mind/I’m not going to stick around and waste my time.” Over warbling chords and aimless, cheery guitar plucks, “Ice Cream Run” sounds at first like a cutesy, if slightly off-kilter, ode to a chilled-out summer. “The sun is out and the sky is turning pink/I got some In-N-Out and I don’t know what to think.” Suddenly the song turns into a repeated mantra of self-doubt: “I know that it’s true/He doesn’t like you/He doesn’t like you.” That slight, easy-to-miss tinge of darkness and despair turns Sundae Crush’s pleasant, dreamy songcraft into something a lot more intriguing and complex than that of their sonic peers."



Local Artist Spotlight: Sundae Crush

by Dusty Henry

Sundae Crush sound exactly like what their name implies: the feelings of eating ice cream sundaes and the unrequited love of having a crush. That’s not an easy balance to strike, at least not with the level of tenderness and affection that Sundae Crush infuses into their music. The Seattle via Denton, Texas dream-pop act weave chat room laments with irl sadness, resulting in a vibrant sound that’s just as easy to dance to as it is to wallow in your own feelings.

More daydream pop than dream pop, the songs have a light and gauzy vibe that never fully transcends reality, the whole thing remaining personal and grounded despite the escapist tendencies.

Tracks like ‘Chat Room Messages’ and ‘Ice Cream Run’ are anthems for bedroom kids of our generation, finding solace not in vast soundscapes or grand adventure, but rather TV and the internet. Which isn’t to say the whole thing isn’t beautiful―the half-paced, blissed-out ‘Swept’ is like lying in the bathtub and imagining you’re bobbing down some lukewarm river, and the pastel-coloured heart-ache of ‘Dating Game 3000’ and ‘Contestant’ provide some much needed comfort for your worried mind.