Around Again

Where the opener establishes dread, this one captures the exhaustion of repetition — the specific fatigue of living the same emotional cycle and recognizing it clearly while being unable to stop. The guitar work here is more locked-in and hypnotic, the rhythm section pushing with a steadiness that starts to feel almost relentless by the midpoint. Darcy's vocal performance leans further into the conversational, sentences that feel unfinished, thoughts that abandon their own conclusions. The song's structure mirrors its subject: it keeps returning, keeps cycling back, never arriving somewhere definitively new. What's remarkable is how little this sounds like complaint — it's more like documentation, delivered with the detached precision of someone who has moved past frustration into something approaching acceptance without peace. Melodically it's less explosive than their most cathartic work, content to sit inside its own groove and let the discomfort marinate. Sonically it suggests a practice room rather than a concert hall — the kind of sound that comes from people who have played together long enough to communicate through restraint. This is music for the specific grey hour when you recognize a pattern in yourself you don't know how to break.