Let’s be real, when a relatively unknown band drops a debut and the press notes read like a list of every cool genre from 1970 to 1979, space rock, soul, gospel, rock & roll, singer-songwriter interludes, you have to be skeptical. That list is basically a recipe for an overstuffed mess. You expect them to be lost, just chasing themselves around trying on old clothes. But Jussel tied all that crazy stuff together on This Town, delivering an essential rock record. This album is a heavy, honest record about feeling bummed out and watching the world spin, all delivered with the warm and tight sound that hasn’t been heard since your dad’s vinyl collection got packed away. They took those giant, ambitious sounds of the 70s, the ones where bands decided they weren’t just musicians, but cultural cartographers, and they made an album that actually works. You can tell Jussel are not messing around the moment you press play. The production shines here. Forget those thin, sharp digital recordings, because This Town sounds thick. It sounds like it was recorded in a cozy, slightly too-small room, with the amps turned up way past ten. The 70s aesthetic is baked into the texture. The bass guitar is huge and resonant, sitting right up front where you can feel it, driving the melody as much as the rhythm. And those drums? They’ve got this great, dampened, thudding quality, sounding like actual thunder, giving every single track a sense of physical weight and gravitas. It’s music that takes up space.
When they bring in the space rock elements, they don’t do it with laser sounds or sci-fi gimmicks. It’s all in the atmosphere. They drench the organ and secondary guitar lines in reverb and long, echoing delays. It creates this feeling of vast, lonely space, like you’re looking up at a cold, clear night sky. That raw rock & roll aggression is constantly battling the infinite emptiness created by those effects. It’s the sonic representation of the band’s theme: they are stuck in this small town (or this small world), but their minds are miles away. Now for the part that sounds impossible, soul and gospel. Most rock bands attempt this and come off sounding like a bad karaoke night. Jussel nails it by not using it as a party trick. They use it as an emotional life raft. The lyrics are all about being the observer, the guy standing on the corner watching the world crack, trying to figure out what it all means. That’s a lonely gig. So, when the gospel-infused backing vocals sneak in, they aren’t singing for joy, they’re singing for solidarity. Jussel deserves a shout-out for being the ultimate glue. He’s got this great, strained, lived-in voice, like he’s been through a few things in life. His delivery is consistent whether the band explores calmer moments or those massive, fuzzy segments. He sounds like a guy who knows how to deliver a sincere emotion and power, packed skillfully altogether. A big fear with a debut that’s supposed to be “epic” is that the band will just noodle around forever. And yeah, Jussel occasionally pushes those instrumental breaks, especially when the space rock textures really take over.
But for the most part, they stay disciplined. The songs are structured to serve the story and the mood, not just the guitar player’s ego. They know when to pull back from the abyss and slam back into a tight, focused rhythm. That coherence is the secret sauce here, they move from a delicate, calm verse to a towering, soul-backed chorus with a confidence that most bands take three or four albums to achieve. Their musical abilities are never in doubt, but they prioritize the feeling over the flash. They let the bass player shine, the organ player wash over the track, and the guitarist deliver just the right amount of grit without ever dominating the proceedings. It’s all about creating an honest, fragile-but-strong sonic shell for the weary observations at the heart of the record. This Town is the real deal. It’s not just a successful debut, it’s a fully formed vision. Jussel took a massive list of classic rock elements and, instead of creating another same-old nostalgic rock album, they created a timeless masterpiece that goes beyond comprehension so many times. This is one of those rare albums that gets better the louder you play it, letting you soak in the heavy, analogue warmth. If you’re into the idea of a 70s rock band grappling with 21st-century exhaustion, this is your jam. Get this one cranked.
Thoughts Words Action 