The Wretched of the Earth helps Smuther stake their claim

first time way back in October. The energy of community is brilliant on this EP, and that spirit of resilience it brings is one of its greatest strengths.

Wretched of the Earth is the new EP from Fraser Valley-area hardcore band Smuther. The EP is an important release for the band, considering the dissonance between their live sound with their recorded material (which amounts to one demo). Wretched of the Earth does away with that problem and is a prime example of a band finding their groove in a scene full of diverse sounds. This of course begs the question: what does this EP sound like? To put it simply, it’s fast hardcore that knows exactly when to slow it down. One might say “that’s a really vague answer,” to which I’d respond “just listen to the EP.” But as this is a written review I will give a bit more.

This EP sounds like you and twenty people are crammed into a basement in the middle of December, seeing the same faces every time you see Smuther with the number only growing. This EP sounds like it knows what it’s like to have it all taken away, and that it won’t take opportunities for granted again. This EP sounds like a community that has been here for a long time, right under your nose. To be honest, it was under mine for a long time too, until I saw them for the

Soundbite //

Wretched of the Earth has a “live” feeling to the production. Now, live recordings have usually turned me off from most bands. On the other hand, one of my favourite elements of Converge’s All We Love We Leave Behind is its production that makes you feel as though you’re right there in the room with them. Wretched of the Earth scratches that same itch; it sounds just as dirty and electric as the live event.

This EP is six tracks and eleven minutes long, and it uses those eleven minutes mostly to its advantage, though there was one thing that I wasn't the biggest fan of.

The samples of dialogue from movies, although infrequent, are a little long. It’s a personal dilemma; they’re dynamic and add to the atmosphere of the EP, but I do feel as though they slow down the overall fast-paced nature of the tracks. Either way, it’s far from a problem and more a matter of preference.

The lyrical tone is excellent on Wretched of the Earth, as it takes the listener on a tour through political themes that feel important in 2023. “Capitol Hill” calls out religious hegemony in politics; “White

Guilt” calls out the bullshit espoused by those who think they have it all figured out; and “Wretched” challenges the listener to reconsider whether they’re really seeing and feeling the injustices in the world. Although the internet provides us with a constant stream of information, some of us tailor that stream to help ignore what’s happening just outside our doors and just down the street. When is the last time you really thought about and questioned the decisions your city council members are making? Smuther is paying close attention.

I saved the instrumentals for last, because my thoughts on this are straightforward: riffs don’t need to be full of chugs and double kicks to be heavy, and this EP is heavy without relying on all that. It feels like every single song on this EP was written to be moved to, knowing when to bounce and when to pick things up. A wise man once said that the best moshers make the best bands, and this is a perfect example. I’ve heard rumours that it’s taken them a while to find their sonic niche among their peers. It’s clear that their niche has been found, and they’re on track to dominate it. Smuther is a group that’s tight; you can tell that they’ve practiced more than enough to keep every part in line, as I’m sure they had more than enough time on their hands

Oleefia is a dreamy slice of nostalgia

Best listened to on high-definition headphones, this is a gem of a truly “indie” EP.

Fraser Valley based indie-folk artist Oleefia’s first self-titled EP Oleefia dropped on Bandcamp and streaming platforms on Feb. 15. Oleefia’s five-soundtrack list comes in at a little more than twenty minutes of intimate, ethereal folk that at certain points evokes a blend of First Aid Kit and Feist “Intro,” a resonant, spacey melody, opens the EP with a slow build, establishing early the mental imagery and soundscapes that continue throughout; soaring violin and dreamy piano drift into the main events of track two and three.

“A Bird’s Grief,” the first of the EP’s two singles, is a sorrowful song about longing. The choral hook is particularly strong, and gives Oleefia’s strong vocals a chance to during the pandemic to hone their craft and fine-tune their creative vision as a band. Since things have started to open back up post-COVID-19, Smuther have been taking up every opportunity they can get, playing shows on a near-weekly basis and even recently headlining at Red Gate Arts Society in Vancouver. At this rate, Smuther is on track to become one of B.C.’s best underground bands. Smuther’s put their blood, sweat, and tears into this; when you listen to Wretched of the Earth, you will know this to be true. shine in this solid indie-acoustic piece. The second single, “Night,” (featuring fellow local artist Quinn Sojo) feels more experimental. Calling back to the strings and dreamy atmosphere of “Intro,” “Night” sounds almost overwhelming at moments, like a stream of memories sailing past. Melodically, “Night” takes more risks, and they ultimately pay off with a single that builds on the pensive atmosphere.

Track four’s “Dust” is a return to the more traditional indie sound, but Oleefia’s lyrics and harmonies are compelling enough to make this song stand up on its own. By the time the EP closes, bookended with “Outro,” you can’t help but feel a certain wistfulness; Oleefia is as sonically rich as it is poignant. This shimmering slice of nostalgia deserves a spot on your Pisces-season lineup.