Spielbergs double-down on their euphoric angst on Vestli

While the season of locked and loaded pop punk may be well underway, the emo iteration Spielbergs are toting is still waiting for its moment. But the sweeping wave of vocalist Mass Balkein’s power-house vocals howling over the tidal wave of pummelled drums and cathartically struck guitars is ready to sweep any onlookers into their unstoppable maelstrom, as first promised on 2019's This Is Not The End.

The Norwegian trio's sound can mostly be attributed to the late ’90s school of euphoric emo which, when funnelled through the life and experiences of these Scandi heart-on-sleeve types makes for something quite special indeed. It harkens to the idea that music traverses sociological and geographical boundaries – predominantly US and UK focused – but the biggest point of all being that a ripping chorus sounds incredible but even more so when it’s speaking to something so rooted in culture.

Showing their intentions early on with opener “The New Years Resolution”, the rip-roaring, shimmering melodies melding with amps cranked to 11 make for the ideal canvas for Balkien to hark on about the darker side of living in the inescapable idleness of streets upon streets of houses, where mistakes are made and madness dwells but more importantly elevating them above allowing for the rattling frustration to find a home with anyone anywhere.

Quickly followed by “When They Come For Me” with its beyond-anthemic titular chorus call, this approach, certainly for those who align, is always a surefire hit, but Spielbergs still tote something that separates them. It could be their understanding of the components required to elevate angst through euphoria or it could be the purity of which they’re processing such emotions. Most likely it’s the winning combination of both.

It’s not all concrete shoes on the accelerator, and they find space to play to their strengths of knowing when to hold and when to fold. On "Goodbye" Spielbergs' carry the understanding that pace is good but even a breather is required, with swelling strings and space to rest. It’s near this latter half that the rapturous choruses make way for more experimental exploration, one which still caves in around you while also allowing for the preceding subject matter to manifest through your own hot topics.

Indeed, where This Is Not The End left off Vestli readily picks up, honing in on the pace and the action, including toting a big cup of ambition – all the way up to the near-eight-minute epic closer “You Can Be Yourself With Me” – ultimately meaning, much like the cage they rattle, Vestli leaves little room for Spielbergs to seemingly ever escape your heart.