Forth Wanderers, a band from Montclair, N.J., is a shining slacker-rock beacon in its particular DIY scene — the very same one that raised others like Pinegrove and, in nearby suburbs, Screaming Females and The Front Bottoms. Nauseating boredom permeates Forth Wanderers' upcoming Slop EP, a 15-minute glimpse into all the deeply complicated feelings of a suburban teenager who doesn't have a whole lot going on.
In "Nerves," Ava Trilling's ennui-plagued alto nails the sudden realization that you're wasting your time with someone who probably doesn't care about you. Guitarist Ben Guterl tells NPR that his cutting, moody lines are the product of "trying to write a slowcore tune that people could indie-headbang to. You know, like a more exaggerated, full-body indie bop." As Trilling sings, Guterl's guitar is practically aching; it moves in arcs over her voice and perfectly captures a feeling of longing. This is a song about being, for lack of a better expression, so bummed out.
As the song proceeds, Forth Wanders evokes a constant cycle of ups and downs, dots you can almost pinpoint on a map: malls that signaled the ends to first relationships, hanging out in a fast-food restaurant after prom, countless hours spent in parks. The punk-rock call of the suburbs in "Nerves" ties all these moments together; the song's title highlights how anxiety-producing that can be.