Somersault
Nothing
Where much of Nothing's catalog leans into noise as blunt force, "Somersault" uses it as a kind of softening agent — blurring the edges of what might otherwise be a painfully direct confessional. The guitars wash in slow arcs, reverb-soaked and trembling, creating the sensation of watching something from underwater. Rhythmically, the song breathes rather than pounds; the drums sit back, unhurried, letting the guitars and vocals do the heavy lifting. Palermo's voice here carries a raw vulnerability he sometimes buries under distortion elsewhere — there's a faltering quality to the delivery, like someone trying to say something honest and almost backing out mid-sentence. The lyrical core turns on themes of helplessness and self-undoing, the image of tumbling without a clear sense of direction or landing. It's a deeply interior song, one that communicates the specific exhaustion of emotional patterns you can identify but can't escape. Sonically it connects to shoegaze's more delicate register — closer to Slowdive's gentler passages than to full noise overload. This is the kind of song that finds you on a gray afternoon when everything feels slightly unreal, the world muted and soft at the corners.
slow
2010s
soft, hazy, underwater
American shoegaze, Philadelphia scene
Shoegaze, Indie Rock. Dream Pop. vulnerable, melancholic. Soft reverb washes gradually part to expose raw emotional fragility, then recede without resolution.. energy 3. slow. danceability 2. valence 3. vocals: faltering male, raw and hesitant, intimate, vulnerability half-suppressed. production: reverb-soaked trembling guitars, slow arcs, unhurried laid-back drums, minimal distortion. texture: soft, hazy, underwater. acousticness 3. era: 2010s. American shoegaze, Philadelphia scene. a gray afternoon when everything feels slightly unreal and the world has gone soft and muted at its edges.