B-Side Guys

Bedroom projects that evolve into full bands often retain an intimacy that larger outfits struggle to achieve. This authenticity permeates Brighton’s Mascot Graveyard and their debut single “Caught Up In The Webbing,” a track that transforms personal struggle into collective expression without sacrificing emotional specificity.

The four-piece outfit, releasing through Sugar-Free Records, demonstrates remarkable cohesion for a newly assembled unit. Their two days at Tidal Wave Recordings yielded a debut that honors their cited influences—Touché Amoré, Militarie Gun, and La Dispute—while establishing a distinctive voice within the crowded UK post-hardcore landscape.

What immediately distinguishes “Caught Up In The Webbing” is how its instrumental arrangement mirrors the psychological state described in the lyrics. The frenetic percussion and tightly-wound guitar work create a sense of enclosure that reinforces the feelings of entrapment expressed in lines about being unable to “wake up, get out or give a fuck.” This paralysis forms the track’s emotional foundation, with the vocalist delivering these admissions with a rawness that suggests catharsis rather than performance.

The production choices enhance this thematic exploration, with moments of dynamic contrast that prevent the intensity from becoming monolithic. Particularly effective are the brief respites between verses, creating breathing room that makes the subsequent surges of energy more impactful. These structural decisions reflect the song’s core narrative—the overwhelming nature of depression and the desperate search for moments of clarity.

The titular “webbing” functions as both metaphor for entanglement and acknowledgment of how depression creates a distorting filter through which reality becomes increasingly difficult to perceive clearly. When the narrator questions “why can’t I see what’s wrong with me,” the delivery conveys both frustration and resignation, capturing the circular thinking that often accompanies mental health struggles.

Most striking is the track’s conclusion, where the narrator acknowledges that “maybe all I needed was some quiet,” suggesting that the path through depression might not always involve dramatic external change but rather internal stillness—a counterintuitive notion within the typically explosive post-hardcore genre.

Mascot Graveyard has transformed personal struggle into communal experience without diluting its impact, suggesting that their forthcoming material may continue to find universal resonance in deeply personal narratives.