Straddling Neutral Milk Hotel and Modest Mouse, Tiny Little House grapple confessional 90’s indie rock with a fever. They are lovesick, with the emphasis being on “sick” – the misery is heavenly here, saturating every pattering note that Tiny Little Houses produce. If Kevin Smith really did predict the future in ‘Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back’, and the movie studios throw down their blockbuster cash on ‘Good Will Hunting 2: Hunting Season’, then Tiny Little Houses have shoed themselves as the replacement for Elliot Smith.
That’s a really, really good thing – Tiny Little Houses pull off the twang of intimacy and hurt with ease, which comes as a mild surprise considering how little material the band have available. But the proof is here that Tiny Little Houses are going to be powerful – it’s obvious to see the chorus becoming the go-to stream of words to tumble from every doe-eyed teenager who feels that their whole life is over after their relationship of two months ends abruptly.
The standout moment here is the incredible, thrashy guitar solo towards the end of the song’s run – it’s cinematic, a watershed moment, drowning out any doubts you might have that Tiny Little Houses are going to be the next big thing.