The Mess WE SEEM TO MAKE : Crawlers DEBUT

By: Enya Xiang

Crawlers transport you into their darkest thoughts in their debut The Mess We Seem To Make. The post-punk, alt-rock quartet from Liverpool have experienced the insecurities of youth, and they want to express it for their generation. The album celebrates the rockers that came before them, littering clever instrumental motifs and vocal techniques and manipulating the sounds of grunge and alternative music from decades past. The Mess We Seem To Make is a songbook of loneliness, a wry expression of self-deprecation, and an ultimate reclamation of self-worth to be found when you are most alone. 

The Crawlers’ crude themes and candid lyrics are a breath of fresh air, and its sincerity is unflinching. The opener, a track called ‘Meaningless Sex’, bitterly juxtaposes emotional detachment with physical touch and brings to life the experience of being physically intimate with someone while simultaneously suffocated by alienation: “I ask for a hand ‘round my neck to feel anything at all”. An angry, glitchy riff played by lead guitarist Amy Woodall wrangles with lead vocalist Holly Minto’s despair, a curse of unrequited love. The hit single ‘Come Over (Again)’ gnaws cruelly at the listener in the mimicry, “Come over again.” Minto’s hoarse voice threatens darkly, “Take her name out of your mouth. You don’t deserve to mourn”.

The Mess We Seem To Make is a sparring match between Minto’s vocals and Woodall’s guitar. In ‘Hit It Again’, a Liz Phair-esque inner dialogue about addiction, Minto battles the instrumentals like the frantic voices banging around in one’s head. As the guitar hisses menacingly, the better self admits, “I know I’m gonna cry when I make it home”, while the other self negotiates, “I know it’s fine. I’m safe, the buzz keeps me alive”. The track oscillates between faint and reverberant. Minto’s whisper mirrored by Woodall’s slinking notes becomes a wrathful, belting chorus with a searing guitar. The instrumentals and vocals lean on each other and create an all-encompassing, stirring mental episode.

The Mess We Seem To Make also mourns the past with youthful idealism. In the hope for reconciliation and healing, Crawlers find their self-worth. In ‘Would you Come To My Funeral’, Minto longs for past relationships and wonders who will remember them when they are gone. At the hypothetical vigil, an olive branch is extended: “There’s a seat laid out for you”. ‘Kills Me To Be Kind’ explores a heartache that has dulled into a thorny memory. However, the past must stay in the past. “You could give it all up for us, and it won't be enough”, Minto declares. A glitzy guitar sequence follows the lead of the lyrics, the guitar and singer once again in duet, this time in friendly parley.

Crawlers shine when they make a racket, but they also show off their genre-flexibility in their more delicate tracks. ‘Call it Love’ remembers first love and playfully follows the cadence of an 80s heartbreak ballad. An overemphasised cymbal and clean riff nod to the decade as Minto murmurs, “I liked you best when you merged with the walls”. The breezy ‘Nighttime Affair’ poses as a 1950s serenade, but rather than longing for innocent romance found in love songs of its time, the narrator reflects on her precarious role as the other woman. In a lilting melody, Minto asks, “Can you love me? I am worthy”. A defiant “you don’t deserve me” slips into the final refrain, realising triumph in choosing yourself.

In their debut, Crawlers want to drive the future of British rock. While up-and-comers are often accused of stealing a specific artist’s sound, Crawlers want to honour every one of their heroes. Faithful to the grit and honesty of 90s punk and grunge, the band gathered their favourite rock elements and constructed a collection of poignant, original stories. Their loneliness, fears, and insecurities are palpable and chameleon-like, shifting and twisting through sensitive lyricism and experimental instrumentals. The curse of youth is feeling everything too painfully, and The Mess We Seem To Make is a meticulous study of emotion and identity, finding clarity in imperfections.