B-Side Guys

Released just eight hours ago, Moving in Slow’s “Call a Doctor” arrives with the breathless urgency of someone finally admitting they need help. The track functions less as traditional song and more as documented intervention—a real-time capture of psychological crisis that refuses to dress itself in metaphorical clothing or poetic distance.

The opening confession—”Staying awake is a chore/Ever since everything became a bore”—establishes immediate exhaustion that permeates both lyrical content and musical structure. This isn’t the romanticized melancholy often associated with indie rock’s exploration of mental health struggles; instead, Moving in Slow presents depression’s most mundane and devastating aspects with unflinching directness.

What makes “Call a Doctor” particularly compelling is how it abandons traditional verse-chorus-bridge expectations in favor of cyclical repetition that mirrors obsessive thought patterns. The song’s structure builds through accumulation rather than conventional development, creating mounting pressure that eventually erupts in the explosive finale described in the band’s notes. This compositional choice transforms repetition from lazy songwriting into psychological accuracy.

The brutal self-assessment continues throughout: “I hate how I look when I walk/And I hate how I sound when I talk.” These lines hit harder because they avoid grandiose suffering in favor of specific, everyday anxieties that anyone who has struggled with self-worth immediately recognizes. The phrase “When I should feel loved” becomes a devastating refrain, acknowledging the gap between rational understanding and emotional reality.

Moving in Slow’s musical approach here appears deliberately unpolished, prioritizing emotional authenticity over technical precision. The emo and alternative rock elements serve the raw confession rather than overwhelming it with unnecessary complexity. As the track builds toward its described “explosive and emotional ending,” the instrumentation appears to mirror the narrator’s internal pressure, creating tension that demands resolution through cathartic release.

The repeated plea “Call a doctor for my brain and all my pain” functions as both literal cry for help and recognition that professional intervention may be necessary when personal resources become insufficient. This acknowledgment of limitation demonstrates mature self-awareness that elevates the track beyond simple emotional venting.

Perhaps most effectively, the song captures the paradox of depression—simultaneously feeling “so numb” while experiencing overwhelming emotional pain. The line “I just wanna find an escape/And never just look at it straight” honestly portrays the exhausting effort required to face difficult emotions directly.

“Call a Doctor” succeeds because it presents mental health struggle without romantic glorification or easy resolution. Moving in Slow has created something that feels genuinely useful rather than merely cathartic—a track that might provide comfort to listeners experiencing similar struggles by demonstrating that such feelings can be articulated, shared, and potentially addressed through professional help rather than suffered in isolation.