motel void

Washington D.C.-based artist Boy Grapes first debuted in 2021 with the EP Virginia. After several follow-up releases, he returns with his most ambitious and varied album yet – and it’s a true genre ride.

That much is clear from the opening track, Sand, an instrumental piece where the guitar oscillates right on the edge of different styles, making you wonder which way it will go – will it break into a melancholy indie song, or dive headfirst into punk? In the end, it remains an atmospheric two-minute intro, among the best I’ve heard this year.

Next up, Humpback shifts gears – vocals enter, and we’re treated to an indie gem that feels like stepping straight out of an air-conditioned library (where I’m writing this review) onto a sunlit beach. The second half builds in intensity, pushing the energy higher. Closed Up keeps the indie spirit alive but leans heavily on acoustic textures – immediately bringing to mind RACE by Alex G – until the second half turns darker, channeling a grungey atmosphere reminiscent of Alice in Chains or Beck’s ’90s records.

Then comes Bobby, perhaps the album’s biggest surprise so far – a near-rap, aggressive burst that feels like the Tiny Cities or Pistol moments on a Modest Mouse record. You might love it, you might hate it – or you might simply be unsettled – but indifference seems unlikely.

Genre diversity continues with the punk-fueled Getting Away and the metal-flirting What I See, whose screamed vocals send genuine chills. This raw, gritty form might just be my favorite, the noise is unrestrained, the solos uncompromising, and I can only imagine how electrifying it must be live.

The second half begins with Gummo, likely a nod to the cult film, starting as a stripped-back acoustic piece before breaking apart. From here, the highlight for me is Muscular Atrophy, driven by a bold, hypnotic bass riff, lethargic yet warm vocals, and irresistibly catchy, beautifully effected choruses.

The record closes on a note as varied as the journey that came before: the blistering, raw-energy punk of Just Move; the nearly seven-minute Better Time, spanning multiple genres and alternating between Dylan-esque acoustic passages and a gritty punk middle section; and finally, It Isn’t Me, a ballad that once again evokes early Alex G, where quirky effects meet straightforward, heartfelt acoustic songwriting.

I See When I Close My Eyes is a shape-shifting album that refuses to stay still for long. It’s a record that embraces extremes – from whisper-quiet intimacy to chaotic noise – and thrives on the tension between them. I can’t say every style won me over equally, but I appreciate the artist’s refusal to linger in one place. Personally, I was most drawn to the acoustic, indie DIY vibe, yet some of the heavier moments proved to be truly thrilling bursts of energy. For fans of artists who push boundaries and resist easy classification, Boy Grapes has delivered something messy, daring, and alive.

 This review was made possible by SubmitHub

---