Middle Part Face Down Depression With Earnest Vitality On New EP "Time Is Elastic"

Brooklyn-based Middle Part has unveiled a new EP in the form of the eight-track Time Is Elastic, a veritable crash course in the artist’s hard-hitting garage pop. Created by Andrew Selkōw after a bout of depression sent him all the way to Alaska for a period of intense self-discovery, the project began to take form after he linked up with collaborator/producer Brian Zaremba. It was out of this relationship that the debut EP I Wish I Was Alive was pieced together as the band’s indie-pop-leaning introduction.

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With their second EP Middle Part taps into the 90s and early aughts, channeling everything from earnest pop-punk to breezy alt-rock. But the eclecticism of the band’s sound is bolstered by Selkōw’s direly heartfelt and poignant songwriting. Across the record he chronicles the after-effects of the lockdown’s isolation on his mental health, struggling to articulate both the difficulties endured and his search for a path through it all. Speaking of the music on the EP, Selkōw admitted: “There’s a thousand million people that are feeling the exact same thing as you including me, and I’m glad that the music is helping, but I’m figuring it out at the same time.”

The opening track “Balance” finds Selkōw in the midst of a dually dolefully ebullient melody trying to do just that. “It’s all a delusion when you’re manic and on your knees,” he laments, before mustering some resolve: “I won’t sink in / Tell my mother tell my father.” Then comes the jaunty but far more visceral “Rather B Dead,” which carries on its back of driving garage energy a sprint through all the manic moments found in the depths of Selkōw’s lowest lows.

On “So Dramatic” he muses dejectedly over an inability to connect with others on an intimate or even meaningful level; while the soaring pop hooks and saxophone blares of “2Morrow” wrap themselves in the ecstatic hope of finding a new start at the beginning of a different day. “Chinatown” sees Selkōw teaming up with Yuno — whose undulating wails grip you with their dulcet buoyancy — for a glittery anthem of synth flourishes that cuts through the gloomy hysteria of the EP.

After another frantic downward spiral on “Choke,” the band’s meteoric search for human connection on Time Is Elastic fizzles dutifully and fittingly out with its outro “Harley.” Like a fuse meandering its way unhurriedly toward detonation, Selkōw wanders into the distance against the rubbery snap and echo of warbled guitars and a languid rhythm of percussion. “Nothing feels the same but I’m never gonna change or / Slow down,” he croons bittersweetly. “All the shit I hate I just force myself to fake it.”