On a surface level, Cincinnati rockers Smut have nothing but an open road in front of them. The DIY hopefuls were plucked from their local scene and signed to Bayonet Records, who issued the band’s breakthrough 2022 LP, How The Light Felt, introducing the band’s lush pop sensibilities to the world. Their Bayonet debut was, without a doubt, a runaway success, allowing Smut to break genre barriers while introducing the five-piece as empathetic, melodic indie rockers unafraid to let their vulnerability guide their music.
What started as a project between guitarists Andie Min and Sam Ruschman has evolved to include drummer Aidan O’Connor, songwriter Tay Roebuck, and bassists John Steiner. With a cemented lineup and a strong buzz, a lot is changing in the world of Smut. Their DIY start has led them to a level of success that very few bands can say they’ve tasted, and even fewer are daring enough to lay the experience bare for all to see. That is precisely what Smut does on Tomorrow Comes Crashing, the band’s sophomore effort for Bayonet and first LP with O’Connor and Steiner. Smut’s latest is the culmination of a decade of toiling away at their sound, the frustrations that come with a burgeoning music career, and how it all matured the band.
As the band inches closer to widespread acclaim and an even brighter star in the modern rock pantheon, Tomorrow Comes Crashing finds the band delving into a dark and distorted realm. These ten songs are far heavier, more daring and twisted, and yet, still as infectious as the glistening pop of Smut’s past. It is almost as if we are watching Smut come into their own before our very eyes, and with a sonic shift this dynamic and intricate, every moment on Tomorrow Comes Crashing becomes wildly more critical. This is a risky leap for a young band, but Smut simultaneously proves to be powerful pop writers just as much as they are fearless sonic scientists. There is a lot of noise surrounding this band right now, and rather than getting caught in the crosshairs of expectations and streaming numbers, Smut emerges with a nuanced LP that showcases their DIY mindset and unwavering creative focus, ensuring these qualities will not be compromised as they rise.
Smut plays a game of tug-of-war between their natural knack for pop songcraft and their newfound adoration for explosive guitar riffs drenched in distorted chaos. The magic of Tomorrow Comes Crashing lies within this sonic marriage. The band’s ability to craft hard-rock-style arrangements and set bright vocals to them is not a new formula in rock music, but for Smut, it is a refreshing change of pace. You hear the nuances of this approach shine on moments like “Burn Like Violet” and “Waste Me,” but it is when Smut gives in to their aggression that Tomorrow Comes Crashing truly shines. The screeches and warping arrangement of “Godhead” and the subtle, hardcore psychedelia of the single “Syd Sweeney” are the moments where Smut dives headfirst into their maturity. At the same time, “Spit” finds the band splitting their time equally.
While the tracklist of Tomorrow Comes Crashing showcases a bit of hesitancy as the band ventures into uncharted waters, Smut pieced together a project that is far from a failed experimentation. These ten songs showcase a young band with an untapped creativity that is bubbling under their pop tendencies. Risky sonic maneuvers and social buzz aside, Smut created an endearing piece of modern indie rock that fuses their love of catchy vocals together with a sprawling display of musicianship that ranges from blissful acoustics (“Ghosts”) to hard rock balladry (“Sunset Hymnal.”) As the young band finds their sonic footing, Tomorrow Comes Crashing proves Smut is here to stay, and all they ask is for you to listen with an open mind.
