B-Side Guys

East Woodinville’s wine-soaked half-basements produced something genuinely strange. WaterPenny—Lane on lead guitar and vocals, Wes on guitar and vocals, Cihan on bass, Sean on drums—describes their sound as “Alternative Americana harmony rock/Gothic Cowboy indie rock,” a descriptor that could read as pretentious genre-stacking but actually captures their refusal to choose between competing impulses. Buttons For People, their eight-track follow-up released October 11th, continues excavating territory their debut Forward Motion mapped: dark rhythmic foundations, anthemic breakouts, philosophy-quoting intellectualism that somehow coexists with genuine emotion.

Their debut Forward Motion established WaterPenny’s approach—mixing philosophical inquiry with melodic rock, as heard on “Rules,” which cited Thoreau and Sartre while building from dark foundations into anthemic release. That willingness to engage big ideas directly without losing musical urgency carries into Buttons For People, where the band continues treating songs as spaces for genuine inquiry rather than just emotional expression.

“Not Yours or Mine” opens Buttons For People establishing ownership ambiguity as thematic anchor. The title suggests contested territory—relationships, land, identity, ideology—without specifying which. That productive vagueness allows listeners to project their own disputes onto the framework while WaterPenny’s harmonies create sonic beauty from conceptual conflict. The band’s description as “unlikely ruffians drawn in by the majesty of America’s North Woods” isn’t just colorful biography—it’s aesthetic mission statement. They write like people who discovered something worth protecting in unexpected places.

“Lost American” follows examining national identity’s confusion. The track functions as mirror to “Rules” from their debut, continuing investigation of what it means to exist within systems you didn’t design and may not endorse. WaterPenny writes protest music that avoids both folk earnestness and punk rage, instead channeling frustration through harmony-driven arrangements that seduce before they challenge. Lane Patterson’s production work—established on Forward Motion—maintains clarity without sacrificing texture, allowing individual instrumental voices space while building cohesive statements.

“Intorp” and “Iteration” demonstrate the band’s structural adventurousness. “Intorp” likely functions as brief interlude or palette cleanser, while “Iteration” earned video treatment from Robert Brian Media, suggesting the band considers it centerpiece worth visual expansion. Iteration as concept—repeated process producing variation—mirrors WaterPenny’s own approach, circling similar thematic territory across albums while refining execution. Their harmony work distinguishes them from countless indie rock peers; the vocal interplay between Lane and Wes creates dimension that single-vocalist arrangements can’t achieve.

“Lonesome Street” and “What That Got You” explore isolation and consequence from different angles. The former evokes classic Americana imagery—empty roads, small-town abandonment, geographic loneliness—while presumably updating those tropes for contemporary circumstance. The latter’s title suggests accounting, tallying costs of decisions made or paths taken. WaterPenny excels at this kind of inventory, examining choices and their aftermath without moralizing or offering easy resolutions.

“Hidden Side” pulls back curtains, investigating what people conceal and why. The band’s Gothic Cowboy designation makes most sense on tracks like this, where darkness lurks beneath Americana’s traditional optimism. They understand that country and folk music’s roots include murder ballads and tragedy, not just celebration and romance. By leaning into those shadows while maintaining alternative rock’s energy and indie rock’s structural freedom, WaterPenny occupies genuinely distinct territory.

“Sine qua non” takes Latin phrase meaning “essential condition” as title, continuing the band’s pattern of intellectual framing. Where some artists might consider such references alienating, WaterPenny treats them as invitations to deeper engagement. They’re making music for listeners who want substance alongside hooks, who appreciate when bands trust their audience’s capacity for complexity. That approach limits commercial ceiling but creates devoted following—people who connect with this material tend to connect hard.

“Undone” closes the album with title suggesting either completion or dissolution. That ambiguity feels appropriate for WaterPenny’s project overall—they’re simultaneously building something and questioning whether what’s being built serves purpose. The album’s release strategy reflects their Seattle scene positioning: Blue Moon Tavern show on October 11th, vinyl release at Musicology in Edmonds on November 22nd, digital platforms the same day as the initial show. That multi-format approach acknowledges different audience segments while prioritizing physical presence and tangible objects over streaming convenience.

Buttons For People consolidates WaterPenny’s identity as band uninterested in easy categorization. The Alternative Americana harmony rock/Gothic Cowboy indie rock designation stops being joke and starts being accurate description—they genuinely blend those elements without any single genre dominating. Their wine-soaked half-basement origins show in music that feels both refined and rough, carefully constructed yet willing to embrace imperfection. For listeners seeking intelligence without pretension, darkness without nihilism, and Americana willing to question America, WaterPenny delivers rare combination worth sustained attention.