Sioux Falls: Rot Forever

So, Sioux Falls only put out this one album. But not really. Because, after some consideration, they changed their name to Stranger Ranger and soldiered on until 2023 as the same exact band. Maybe it’s because they recorded Rot Forever, figured it was their masterpiece — it is a double album, after all — and decided it would also be their swan song. Better to burn out than fade away and all that. And, based on the way this album starts off — at least to my ears — I get it.

The first thing I notice when firing this thing up is the production. I like it. It has that in-the-room live sound. I can hear all the instruments. The separation is there. The dynamics. It’s well recorded without being slick in any way. I’m sure if I listened carefully I could pick out the imperfections in the guitar strums or a clank here and there on the drum kit. It definitely mimics some of the more bombastic choices of a Steve Albini. And I’m here for it. I love the chug of a bass. I like the chime and squeal of a guitar. And the thump of a bass drum. The crag and break of a vocal. The bass actually carries the melody on occasion, like on their third track, “Chain of Lakes.” Kickass.

And, yes, I know this band has listened to a lot of Built to Spill and possibly even more Modest Mouse, but that’s like catnip to me. And while there is definitely a lot of influence there, they manage to find a decent balance between the two. A little — but just a little — less guitar wankery than Built to Spill and a little — but just a little — less intentional atonal weirdness than Modest Mouse. They kind of sand off the edges of those two bands’ worse tendencies. Which, of course, means they don’t reach the heights of either — because, as we all know, you must take the weird with the off-the-charts amazing — but as a debut and swan song, it’s a pretty cool record.

Honestly, the more I listen to this album the more I enjoy it. It does remind me of LVL UP, who I saw live in a tiny venue in Montclair opening for Pinegrove. Though Sioux Falls are a little less slackery and tossed-off feeling, even at times veering into that layered Wrens territory. The Wrens, who are notoriously the least tossed-off band of all time. There are other emo-adjacent bands that I can hear in their sound that I can’t quite put my finger on, but suffice it to say that there is definitely familiarity beyond the classic indie bands of the 90s in their music. And, yes, a double album is a bit indulgent. But even as a passive listen, I really enjoy this thing. Oscillating between yelling and anguish and mellow resignation, snaky basslines and nice chimey guitar harmonics. And a really good crashy drum sound — which you know hits my sweet spot. Honestly, just sit back and enjoy this hidden/lost gem and don’t worry about the name on the record sleeve (or digital download or whatever).