Sweeping Promises blast away the cobwebs of 2023 with an album of thrillingly immediate post-punk subterranean pop

Earlier this year I was enraptured by new records from Moin (Paste) and Oren Ambarchi (Shebang). All well and good, you say. Well, not quite. Trouble was, I’d made the unforgivable mistake that only applies to music journalists and self-appointed gatekeepers of not hearing them the year they came out. 2022 was a distant country and the shock of the new had apparently got up and left. I’ll let you in on a secret though: the music industry release cycle doesn’t always align with the musical paths you’re taking. Want to listen to TAD’s 8-Way Santa rather than investigate the promo emails in your inbox? That’s perfectly fine, particularly if you want to remain in love with music. Does it matter when something was released if it makes you feel that feeling? Of course it doesn’t. But the list-making you, the one who’s already published their fucking albums of the year, might despair. More importantly for me in that moment, where were the 2023 records that I needed to shout about as if I were in a gonzo reimagining of Our Band Could Be Your Life as A Streetcar Named Desire?

In the end, it took a deus ex machina (translation: a promo I got really excited about) to course correct my current year in music and that role was thrillingly performed by Sweeping Promises, thank the gods. Because Good Living Is Coming for You (their second LP, first for Sub Pop) is a blow-the-cobwebs-the-fuck-away blast of high-energy DIY that falls somewhere between post-riot grrrls Le Tigre and early 2000s no wave revivalists Erase Errata. Or you might want to imagine an unholy alliance between self-obsessed and sexxee fellow Sub Poppers CSS and the falling-down-the-stairs noisemakers Die Monitr Batss. Pick yr poison.

What’s unmistakable is that Boston duo Sweeping Promises are a force to be reckoned with in their own right. Lira Mondal delivers punk rock girl group vox and Pixies-worthy basslines, as Caufield Schnug brings scratching guitar lines and decoded drumming. There’s the immediacy of a Benzedrine hit to proceedings, with these latter-day post-punk transmissions refusing to outstay their welcome but crying out for repeat plays. Consider “You Shatter”, which shoves onlookers out of the way as it takes off like Blondie or the Ramones. It’s got all the angles and isn’t afraid to use them. That it sounds as if it could break apart at any moment and take yr heart with it is why you fell in love with it in the first place. Likewise “Throw of the Dice”, another open to the moment burst of outsider pop brilliance that you’ll want to trap in amber for fear of falling out with 2023 again.

Sub Pop

Sweeping Promises Bandcamp

Monorail exclusive

Stewart Gardiner
Latest posts by Stewart Gardiner (see all)