Klept is a band that dares you to lean into discomfort, chaos, and the strange poetry of noise. Their sound draws from punk, grunge, experimental rock, and digital distortion, constructing songs that feel like fractured stories. They don’t try to sanitize pain or hide complexity; they lean into it, offering music that’s raw, unpredictable, and full of life. Check out the full album and review below!
Track-by-Track
Black Angel Coded Doctrine
This opening track strikes immediately, with distortion that feels like static between worlds. The guitars jaggedly cut through misty layers, and the vocals speak in clipped tones that suggest urgency. It feels like a manifesto for the album, coded and half-revealed.
Trust Fund Baby
Here, Klept zeroes in on class and privilege with razor-sharpness. The beat is steady but aggressive, the lyrics sharp and biting. There’s a tension between attitude and melody that gives the song punch. It’s one of those tracks where anger and craft collide.
Light Your Cigar and Smoke the Bad World Away
A slower tempo lets the atmosphere take over. The instrumentation builds gradually, smoke swirling in from every angle. Vocals drift into echo, letting questions hang. The line between despair and surrender feels very thin here.
Big Green Tractor
This track subverts country tropes with heavy guitars and dark imagery. The juxtaposition of rural language and distortion makes it feel unsettling yet compelling. It’s a twist, familiar language, unmapped context.
Catholic Computers
Here, the band juxtaposes faith and tech, creating a sound that’s simultaneously mechanical and haunted. The mix of digital glitches and spiritual questioning gives the track weight. You feel both skepticism and yearning.
Fukushima Spider Web
This track carries a post-apocalyptic wind. The production leans into echo, feedback, and distant percussion. Vocals carry the weight of survival, secrecy, and rupture. It’s cinematic and uneasy.
Wheelbarrow Full of Shattered Glass
Dense imagery and fractured soundscapes meet here. It’s abrasive yet poetic. The vocals sound like shards, sharp, fractured, compelling. The mix feels claustrophobic in a way that’s intentional and gripping.
Appease Old Friend Fog
This one rides fog and memory. The instrumentation softens, then reasserts edges. It’s about comfort, haze, not seeing clearly. The vocals are close, like speaking in dim light. Definitely a strong addition to the album.
F1U883R_+AK3_0N3
This next track could be described as gritty, digital, and jagged. This track pushes glitch and fragmentation. It doesn’t aim to be gentle. It planes edges, fractures motifs, and bends structure. It’s daring and uneasy, and that’s its point.
Sitka
This one is a more ambient moment. Reverb, space, distant motifs. It feels like a breath. The intensity of earlier tracks softens, offering a moment of pause before the heavy finale.
The Doppler Effect
The closing track brings swirling distortion and slow-building tension. The beat is both push and retreat. Vocals echo into space. It ends not with resolution but with a sense of ongoing motion; everything feels unsettled yet held.
Final Thoughts
Squealin’ Hog is less a record and more a terrain. Klept doesn’t offer comforts; they offer reflection through fracture and beauty in disruption. This album asks you to feel tension as a space, not a problem. It stays with you, unsettled, and that’s exactly the point.
