Julian Never

A subtle, shimmering shift for Julian Elorduy on his latest album, finds the songwriter crystallizing the vision that emerged on his 2023 album, Pious Fiction. Still rooted, for the most part, in chalk-smudged visions of indie pop, the record is propelled by the steady pound of spring-tight percussion, bilious guitars and gauzy keys. The overcast aura and downtrodden jangles give him some easy company among the Echo acolytes and New Wave highliners of the 2020’s, sliding easily onto the shelf alongside early Reds, Pinks and Purples, Wild Nothing, or Business of Dreams. Like the former there’s a sense of tidal weight to the album, an emotionally adrift sense of life often getting the upper hand. Elourduy burrows into brooding in ways that feel comforting; crushed velvet shadows that offer a place to hide for a few minutes.

The darkness makes his moments of levity all the more striking. The nostalgic swoon of “1984 Volvo 240” might still be the sour note on a sunnier album, but here it hits like the first hints of Spring. It leads nicely into the album’s most hopeful moment, the soft country air of “Say Something,” a song that hints at a more hopeful melancholy in Elorduy’s songwriting. With a touch of pedal steel and soft strums, the song mixes gauzy atmospheres with pensive Americana. It’s a brief turn away from the record’s driving heart, and the band is soon back to the snap of drums and the anxious gnarl of guitars. “Anything” breaks the spell once more with an acoustic overlay, but it’s still caught in the emotional whirlpool that courses through Everyday is Purgation. Zoomed out from the album’s individual seams and stitches, the record weaves a heart-worn tapestry that’s tipped and torn, but never trampled. There’s hope among the heaviness, and it reveals itself more with each listen.

Support the artist. Buy it HERE.