Cabbage is a welcome addition to the Philly music scene.
Philadelphia’s music scene has skyrocketed in the past few years with an ever-expanding DIY scene. As new bands pop up, old bands expand and prolific artists and venues drift in and out of the city. It makes sense that pop-punk outfit Cabbage would hail from Philly with a sound that carries the messy, giddy spirit of a packed basement show. Infectious melodies and fuzzed-out guitars fuel Cabbage’s songs along with an infusion of nineties grunge and the lo-fi pop jangle of the Raincoats. In their debut album Living Room Demo, Cabbage harnesses vulnerability as a source of power in tackling the creeping uncertainties that only widen with youth.
“Tough Luck” showcases emotional heft on missing a piece of oneself as love takes the shape of another in relationships. Jake Scallion's guitar wails in the dissonance while Beth Miller's voice splits real shade and concern over a vexing relationship. Miller’s voice charges forward with two-words hooks on “Guess What” as she reconciles her loneliness. Guitars twinkle over smashing percussion as Miller sings with an open-heart, “The wind blows me back / Chills me to the fingers / I don’t want to be cold and alone.” Each one of Cabbage’s songs carry candid moments of honest introspection and swift instrumentation that grants the album a bracing intimacy. On “Fukd Up,” Miller grapples with feeling helpless in the face of a withering relationship. Her voice commiserates across a wave of distortion, sculpting remnants of an unhealthy relationship fueled by desire. Cabbage amplifies space for earnest, self-awareness as Miller turns personal longing into a mantra of foreboding. “Bridge” slacks like golden-era Pavement with fuzzed-out guitars and lyrics that favor the subject of melancholy and youthful stagnancy. By the song’s chorus it almost sounds like a love letter to Stephen Malkmus, breaking off into twinkling guitar and heightened vocal intensity. Living Room Demo crafts reflective moments of frustration and uncertainty in growing up while confronting its listeners with the importance of striking out on your own.
Listen to Cabbage on bandcamp.
THIS STAFF POST WAS CONTRIBUTED BY:
Abbie Jones, who will sing along to every Liz Phair song at karaoke by heart and is always down to get milkshakes past midnight. When she isn't writing about music, she is playing drums in her band or hosting shows in her backyard.