On Lunger, Brooklyn indie act Stay Inside further evolve their sound into an accessible tapestry of emo and art-rock laced with sardonic whim and a desire to let out.
Release date: October 3, 2025 | Tiny Engines | Website | Bandcamp | Instagram
Stay Inside has laid out a cool trajectory thus far – or at least ever since my learning about them through their 2020 debut album Viewing. The Brooklyn act showed a gritty angle to emo that was immediately magnetic, something that was passed on to their follow-up EP Blight. Their proclivity towards delivering mauling yet spacious works heralded them as a band to really pay attention to for me. They proceeded to take a slight detour with their 2024 sophomore independent release Ferried Away, which ended up being one of my favorites of the year in great part to its melding of chamber pop reveries (thanks to the addition of Matt Hull, something I was pretty stoked about upon finding out) – and their established searing brutality.
Now with Lunger, the band’s first output under Tiny Engines, they properly set foot on the chamber pop and broader art rock vicinities: more instruments incorporated, a stronger approach to ornamented songwriting, brighter melodies, and fully embracing the caprice that such genres bring – think Foxing or Manchester Orchestra. While being a notable departure from their past releases, Stay Inside nevertheless stay firm to their roots and offer a solid compromise that, while shaky in some areas, is sure enough a welcome addition to their excitedly evolving catalog.
Jangly guitars and propelling drums open the album on “Counting Electric Sheep” as the band presents itself with no hesitation in introducing this new era they’re ushering in. The make of this track lies in its ever so slightly distorted drive, snappy vocal hooks, bouncy instrumentals, and a sardonic attitude about how both ruthless and indifferent people can be. This is how Lunger operates – displaying palpable emotional reveries through the (desperate) mundanity of everyday life while being soundtracked by a pastiche of rock that is ironically optimistic, but never afraid to take itself seriously.
A song like “Monsieur Hawkweed” does exactly that with great execution. Crunchy guitar chords and a stomping rhythm section recalls the ironic woes of grunge, garnished with group shouts spread throughout the song that give it a pretty fun dynamic. Meanwhile, the lyrics dwell in sarcastic meanderings in an effort to make sense of a seemingly unfair world. The way the lyrical speaker is portrayed in such a ‘live long enough to see yourself become a villain’ manner brings an edge to the track that makes for a great contrast to the sound palette heard throughout it. Lunger also sees Stay Inside at their strongest and most accessible songwriting-wise, with tracks like “Super Sonic” and “Morning Breath” being undoubtedly alt-rock hits, or how the contemplative “Oh, Longshoreman” is a stellar showcasing of pacing and enveloping composition.
It’s the album’s mid-to end-section, however, where Stay Inside fully realize their vision as the band incorporates more brass sections and explores uncharted avenues that admittedly do take a little to acclimate to. This is especially the case with “Old Faithful”, the track’s sloshed cadence grabbing the sound of saxes, trumpets, and banjos into its clutches to conjure an almost-subterranean indie slow-burner about a doomed relationship that is alluringly unhinged. It’s definitely an ear-perker when played immediately after “Monsieur Hawkweed” and, though a solid standalone track, it does take the flow of the record away from me a bit.
Alternatively, “See You Next Time, Wild Hogs” glides through with The Cure-esque guitar leads in tandem with tight basslines and a confessional vocal performance that are juxtaposed with glistening synths and trumpets, while “Look! A Smoke Signal” is structured around electronic elements that seamlessly dance with the rather forlorn motifs delivered by the flugelhorn and the alto sax. Tracks like “Wish It Away'” and “Runnin”, nonetheless, show Stay Inside harkening back to their emo sensibilities, albeit a more streamlined, post-punky version of them. This is particularly evident on “My Dream of Doing Nothing”, where the dark and anthemic sonic landscapes introduced on Viewing and refined on Ferried Away return in full fashion.
Lunger demonstrated that, when Stay Inside have a clear vision, they commit to it all the way through. While I still find myself gravitating more towards their previous album Ferried Away, this newest one still left me fulfilled and with the excitement for the sonic trails they might take in the future – it’s all a matter of finding the right footing, and that of course takes its time. Still, the band is very well on their way to reaching their peak, I’m sure of that. If anything, Lunger finds Stay Inside at their most accessible, capable of channeling hues and textures of seemingly distant genres into works that are equally off-kilter and engaging, and that’s simply not something easy to pull off.
