B-Side Guys

Paleontologists use the term “dead clade walking” to describe species that survived mass extinction events only to fade into eventual obscurity. HLLLYH’s aptly titled “Dead Clade” performs the reverse maneuver—resurrecting dormant musical DNA to create something simultaneously familiar and startlingly vital.

The track’s archaeological significance cannot be separated from its sound. Excavated from 2009 recordings and reimagined through contemporary sensibilities, “Dead Clade” pulses with the frenetic energy that characterized The Smell’s DIY heyday while incorporating production elements that could only exist in 2025. The result feels less like revival than carbon dating set to music—measuring half-lives of influence across generations.

Instrumentally, “Dead Clade” builds its foundation on deliberately primitive drum patterns that gradually accumulate complexity, mirroring evolution itself. Guitar lines function not as melodies but as punctuation—staccato bursts that interrupt vocal phrases with almost antagonistic precision. This structured chaos culminates in what the band describes as “anthemic bombast,” though calling it anthemic undersells its subversive qualities—this isn’t arena rock but rather communal catharsis channeled through deliberately lo-fi aesthetics.

What distinguishes “Dead Clade” from standard reunion fare is its self-awareness. The track acknowledges its own history without becoming enslaved to it—incorporating “candy-coated synths” alongside punk urgency in ways that honor lineage while refusing nostalgia. This tension between preservation and progression makes “Dead Clade” the perfect introduction to URUBURU, positioning the album as “the first statement of a new band” rather than the final gasp of an old one.

In reanimating materials from 2009 while incorporating new members and influences, HLLLYH has created a powerful argument against obsolescence. “Dead Clade” suggests that cultural extinction is never permanent—that dormant sounds carry the potential for rebirth when approached with both reverence and irreverence. Like geological layers compressed into single moments, the track collapses time itself, making yesterday’s underground sound unexpectedly essential today.