B-Side Guys

Abandonment lurks beneath the surface of Trip Sitter’s “Deaf Ears,” a track that weaponizes vulnerability with surgical precision. The Boston outfit’s February release carves out a distinctive space within the crowded alternative landscape through its deliberate structural choices and emotional immediacy.

What immediately distinguishes this track is its vocal architecture. Where many bands in adjacent sonic territories bury voices beneath instrumental layers, Trip Sitter boldly positions their vocals front and center. This mix prioritization creates an unsettling intimacy, particularly during the stripped-back section where guitars temporarily retreat, leaving exposed vocal harmonies to carry the emotional burden—a production choice that mirrors the naked vulnerability expressed in lines like “I’ll rub your back at night. I’ll even comb your hair.”

This unguarded tenderness quickly collapses into resignation. The narrator’s offer of unconditional support—”I’ll be your old black boots on any rainy day”—immediately crumbles against reality’s constraints: “But I can’t, so I won’t.” This pivotal collapse from devotion to defeat powers the song’s emotional engine, establishing a tension between desire and impossibility that never resolves.

The chorus—”Leave me alone. I’ll be at home. Feeling like shit. Wouldn’t like it.”—functions as a defensive mantra, repeated with increasing intensity throughout. Its blunt language stands in stark contrast to the more poetic imagery found elsewhere, creating a jarring effect that captures the disorientation of emotional rejection.

Trip Sitter’s musical DNA reveals itself through a complex integration of influences: the textural elements of shoegaze provide atmospheric weight, while the precision and technicality of midwest emo appears in the interwoven guitar work. Most effective is how the band employs psychedelic elements not as escapism but as a vehicle for introspection, particularly in the song’s existential middle section: “Sometimes I wonder what happens when we die. It’s not that often, just most nights when I lie.”

The track’s final moments collapse into a coda of repeated phrases—”Feeling like shit. Wouldn’t like it”—that resist resolution. This intentional denial of catharsis leaves listeners suspended in the same emotional purgatory as the narrator, unable to progress or retreat.

“Deaf Ears” ultimately succeeds by balancing contradictions: it’s both confessional and guarded, structured yet emotionally chaotic, melodically inviting despite its thematic bleakness. Trip Sitter has crafted something that feels intensely personal while capturing a universal experience—the moment we realize our deepest expressions of devotion may never truly be heard.