Rocker (feedbot)
Platinum Member
There’s been a fundamental seismic shift in the world of Spanish Love Songs. Previously, they made music that translated personal experiences into universal truths. That strategy however has been eclipsed given the outside world is more bewildering than their own inner turmoil. Crypto, the January 6th Insurrection and the nature of holding an American identity in 2026 have intruded into their songwriting milieu, and the struggle to make sense of the world as it evolves is the subject of ‘Future Nausea’, their fourth full length outing. You’d be forgiven, if you’re a fan of their back catalogue, for assuming that this would be another bleak record, considering its subject matter, but that’s another sea change; ‘Future Nausea’ might just be Spanish Love Songs’ happiest album to date. It’s an album that focuses on the sparks of hope in an otherwise unforgiving world, and in turn, becomes one itself.
We got hints that their outlook changed with the first two single drops. “They’ll use your Christian name when they club your face up against the hood of that cop’s car,” warns Dylan Slocum on ‘Good American’, a song that warns against unfair working conditions, climate change and political fear-mongering in the same breath as police brutality. On first listen, it’s a sunny, Springsteen-esque portrait of everyday struggles, but then the penny drops. Slocum’s taken the pain he’s channelled since day one and extended it out to encompass the strife that haunts his homeland. “Welcome to Hell: we made it ourselves,” he warns on ‘Welcome To Hell’, switching between his own reaction and soft synths to the horrors he sees, accompanied by a rage-filled, cracked scream. Even the most directly autobiographical song on ‘Future Nausea’, ‘Doom Tripping’, (broadly the story of accidentally messing up your prescription and descending into a hazy, social media-fuelled delirium) tackles a whole list of modern ills, spat with disorienting precision against the targets. Spanish Love Songs isn’t Slocum’s outlet any more. He’s now our outlet for all the wrongs we take in our stride, his lyrics offering us strength against the tide of endless capitalism.
There’s no drowning in sorrow here though. While we might be living through ‘New Fears’ on a daily basis, there’s an absorbing love for life that bounces through the song, and even ‘Jan666’, with its slower tempo and most obviously political title bursts with compassion for the red-pilled protagonist of the track’s narrative. If this is Spanish Love Songs in full activist mode, it’s the gentlest yet most resolute social action out there. The epilogue, ‘Until The Sun Explodes’, is so very different from the rest of ‘Future Nausea’ with its quiet, open-mic energy, but it feels like a summary of what the band were hoping to achieve with this album; lone voices, preaching a message of hope in the midst of chaos, and giving those disenchanted with the world something to cling on to. It’s a beautiful little song that’s going to provide the lighters-up, protest vigil moment when its presented live, the power barely contained in a studio recording. This new positioning of themselves as observers who believe that “nothing’s over ’til the sun explodes”, and still, despite it all, love the world around them, is a powerful and necessary new direction for Spanish Love Songs. They’ve always been eloquent commentators on the human condition, and now that they’re focused externally, there’s a whole new dimension to their sound waiting for us to explore.
Like all of us, Spanish Love Songs are in a timeline where newspapers scream about “another civilian shooting, another animal extinct”, but now they’ve immersed themselves into the cesspool of the current political and emotional climate and emerged stronger for it. ‘Future Nausea’ is a record which is going to serve as a historical record of where we’re at now in the future, and the way they’ve combined the zeitgeist with their own emotional reaction without diluting their sound is astounding. If anything gets us through whatever previously unpredicted crisis is unfolding by the time you’re reading this, it’ll be Spanish Love Songs with ‘Future Nausea’.
KATE ALLVEY
We got hints that their outlook changed with the first two single drops. “They’ll use your Christian name when they club your face up against the hood of that cop’s car,” warns Dylan Slocum on ‘Good American’, a song that warns against unfair working conditions, climate change and political fear-mongering in the same breath as police brutality. On first listen, it’s a sunny, Springsteen-esque portrait of everyday struggles, but then the penny drops. Slocum’s taken the pain he’s channelled since day one and extended it out to encompass the strife that haunts his homeland. “Welcome to Hell: we made it ourselves,” he warns on ‘Welcome To Hell’, switching between his own reaction and soft synths to the horrors he sees, accompanied by a rage-filled, cracked scream. Even the most directly autobiographical song on ‘Future Nausea’, ‘Doom Tripping’, (broadly the story of accidentally messing up your prescription and descending into a hazy, social media-fuelled delirium) tackles a whole list of modern ills, spat with disorienting precision against the targets. Spanish Love Songs isn’t Slocum’s outlet any more. He’s now our outlet for all the wrongs we take in our stride, his lyrics offering us strength against the tide of endless capitalism.
There’s no drowning in sorrow here though. While we might be living through ‘New Fears’ on a daily basis, there’s an absorbing love for life that bounces through the song, and even ‘Jan666’, with its slower tempo and most obviously political title bursts with compassion for the red-pilled protagonist of the track’s narrative. If this is Spanish Love Songs in full activist mode, it’s the gentlest yet most resolute social action out there. The epilogue, ‘Until The Sun Explodes’, is so very different from the rest of ‘Future Nausea’ with its quiet, open-mic energy, but it feels like a summary of what the band were hoping to achieve with this album; lone voices, preaching a message of hope in the midst of chaos, and giving those disenchanted with the world something to cling on to. It’s a beautiful little song that’s going to provide the lighters-up, protest vigil moment when its presented live, the power barely contained in a studio recording. This new positioning of themselves as observers who believe that “nothing’s over ’til the sun explodes”, and still, despite it all, love the world around them, is a powerful and necessary new direction for Spanish Love Songs. They’ve always been eloquent commentators on the human condition, and now that they’re focused externally, there’s a whole new dimension to their sound waiting for us to explore.
Like all of us, Spanish Love Songs are in a timeline where newspapers scream about “another civilian shooting, another animal extinct”, but now they’ve immersed themselves into the cesspool of the current political and emotional climate and emerged stronger for it. ‘Future Nausea’ is a record which is going to serve as a historical record of where we’re at now in the future, and the way they’ve combined the zeitgeist with their own emotional reaction without diluting their sound is astounding. If anything gets us through whatever previously unpredicted crisis is unfolding by the time you’re reading this, it’ll be Spanish Love Songs with ‘Future Nausea’.
KATE ALLVEY