B-Side Guys

Sometimes the most dangerous person at a party is the one taking pictures. South Bend’s whisk has built their latest single around this premise, tracking how quickly social encounters can escalate beyond comfort zones, all wrapped in garage rock that shifts moods as unpredictably as its protagonist’s evening.

The track opens with that promised aggression—guitars that snarl with Arctic Monkeys’ swagger, drums that hit like someone who’s had too much caffeine and not enough sleep. But whisk’s real strength emerges in their dynamic shifts, the way they pivot from that AM-style attack into something altogether more vulnerable. The transition mirrors the narrative perfectly: initial confidence giving way to confusion, then something approaching panic.

The Notre Dame chapel origins feel relevant here. There’s something almost confessional about the track’s structure, the way it moves from bravado through uncertainty toward a kind of bewildered acceptance. The band’s Midwestern garage rock approach—bright melodies retaining their edge—creates the perfect sonic environment for depicting social anxiety in real time.

Lyrically, the song captures that specific brand of party encounter where enthusiasm and discomfort become impossible to distinguish. Lines like “somehow I think I’m in the way” reveal the narrator’s fundamental confusion about his own agency in the situation. whisk understands that modern social interactions often feel scripted until they suddenly don’t.

The production choices support this thematic content intelligently. When the track shifts into its “dreamy, reflective” sections, the change feels like relief rather than artistic indulgence. It’s the musical equivalent of stepping outside for air during a crowded party—necessary space to process what just happened.

whisk has crafted something that works as both character study and sonic experience, proving their evolution from cover band to genuine songwriters deserves attention.