Five people sharing vocal duties across ten tracks could fragment an album’s identity, but Broke Royals make it their greatest strength. Philip Basnight, Colin Cross, Taimir Gore, Rebecca Basnight, and Ben Wilson trade leads and harmonies throughout Campr, the collaborative approach reinforcing the album’s central themes—knowing when to speak, when to listen, when to push forward, and when to hold ground. The Washington, DC band builds widescreen indie rock on restraint rather than spectacle, patience rather than instant payoff, creating forty minutes that resist scrolling past.
“Better Off” opens with bursting guitar twangs and wordless vocal soaring, the track establishing tone immediately. Written during Trump’s first term, it speaks to the fatigue of constant noise while asserting that choosing words carefully doesn’t mean staying silent. “I choose my words carefully,” the vocals declare, the restraint thematic rather than stylistic—Broke Royals can explode when needed, but they understand that power often lives in composure. The title-bearing hook commands harder-rocking ardor, the uplifted vocal work achieving a tonal resemblance to Thom Yorke. The production allows space for the instrumentation to breathe, sturdy percussion, and lush guitar work, creating momentum without bombast.
The title track “Campr” arrives with shimmering twelve-string lines and punchy rhythms, twinkling synths meeting feverish guitar pulses. The anthemic vigor shows in the vocal performance, which explores loss and renewal simultaneously. “I’ll love you till the end” promises continuity despite whatever distance or boundaries the lyrics examine. The song carries a feeling of open air and forward motion, the groove intentional and almost meditative. Hooks arrive naturally rather than exploding into view, melodies cresting without overselling themselves. This reflects the band’s trust: in the songs, in each other, in listeners’ patience.
“Still” drifts into hazier terrain, textures blooming slowly like dusk settling over a city skyline. The track drew hundreds of thousands of views across social media platforms despite—or perhaps because of—its refusal to chase virality through cheap tricks. We All Want Someone To Shout For called it “simply sublime,” the restraint reading as sophistication rather than timidity. The shared vocal responsibilities become particularly effective here, different voices adding layers without cluttering the arrangement.
“Carriage” delights in bright guitar jangling and bass-bouncing verses, the “every line you wanted me to say” section inducing replays through alt-pop allure. The “don’t wait for me” beckoning showcases the band’s dreamier atmospheric inclinations, the track navigating from breezy approachability to rock fervency smoothly. This range—their ability to shift tones without losing cohesion—demonstrates the chemistry developed through shared stages with Manchester Orchestra, Dashboard Confessional, AWOLNATION, Car Seat Headrest, and others.
“The Weather” features Rebecca Basnight’s serenely captivating vocals over ’80s-style synths and pop guitars fusing with seamless cohesion. Her delivery fits fantastically within the production, the track serving as an excellent example of how Broke Royals craft stylish productions across various vocalists without sacrificing unity. The emotional clarity cuts deeper than any grand gesture could, the quiet resolve landing with more weight than theatrics would achieve. Washington City Paper noted that “you’d be hard-pressed to find a bigger and better clean-sounding couple of singles this year,” the polish existing without slickness.
“Undertow” and “Home” continue the album’s exploration of distance, friendship, and self-direction. The lyrics handle these themes with nuance, feeling observational and lived-in rather than prescriptive. Many songs were written across several years, the personal and cultural truths revealing themselves through hindsight rather than immediate understanding. This temporal depth gives the writing substance—these aren’t hastily composed thoughts but insights earned through experience and reflection.
“Looking For” struts a debonair rock entrancement with ghostly, soulful vocal chilliness, the track succeeding through patient unfolding rather than immediate impact. Where songs like “The Weather” and “Better Off” pop with colorful immediacy, “Looking For” demonstrates that Broke Royals can also work in slower-burning territory without losing listener engagement. The dynamic range across the album—from arena-ready anthems to intimate introspection—showcases the band’s evolution from their critically praised 2022 album Local Support and EP Big Dream.
“Felix” maintains momentum heading into the album’s conclusion, the track contributing to the record’s refusal to let up in quality songwriting. The cohesiveness across ten tracks speaks to the band’s collaborative unit functioning at a high level, the shared vocal roles and alternating leads creating a powerful and immediate sound without requiring a single dominant personality.
“Waited So Long” closes the album with melancholic vocal immersion, conveying palpable yearning amidst hypnotic, swaying guitar psychedelics and a caressing string-touched outro. The slow-burning impact provides a satiating conclusion, the album ending on emotional resonance rather than a big final statement. This restraint feels appropriate—Campr consistently chooses depth over flash, longevity over virality, emotional directness over theatrics.
The band’s “sing-along, arena-ready sound” (Billboard) and “pristine pop-rock” (Washington Post) reputation gets challenged and deepened here. Yes, these songs could fill festival stages—Broke Royals remain a dynamic live force, named one of DC’s best live bands by CBS and Artist on the Rise by Southwest Airlines. But Campr proves equally at home in headphones, the layered textures and shared vocal arrangements revealing new details with repeated listening. Washingtonian Magazine recognized this sophistication: “Their sophisticated songs have enough layers to keep you listening.”
What makes Campr compelling is its refusal to chase spectacle in a landscape obsessed with instant gratification. Broke Royals lean into longevity, creating guitar-driven songs meant to be lived with rather than scrolled past. The grooves prove powerful without flash, the emotional directness requiring no theatrics, the boldest moves often being simply holding ground. The band sidesteps the peak-and-drop theatrics of modern indie-pop, trusting that steady momentum and textured guitars serve songs better than manufactured drama.
The five-member collaboration elevates everything. Different voices bring different perspectives, the shared responsibilities reflecting the album’s themes about knowing when to speak and when to let others carry the weight. In a world of constant noise where the loudest voice claims the spotlight, Broke Royals demonstrate that restraint is strength, that choosing words carefully remains powerful, that sometimes the most defiant act is refusing to compete for attention and instead making something durable and human. Campr works as a whole because every member understands the mission, trusts the process, and knows when to step forward and when to support. The result is abundant in melodic, emotionally powerful songwriting—a riveting success built on patience, purpose, and shared vision.
B-Side Guys 
Leave a Reply