With “Derelict Crawl,” The House Flies give an early indication of how much weight they are willing to put behind their next record. Released September 4, the Moline, Illinois band’s new single is a tightly wound piece of post-punk built on a steady rhythm, thick guitar layers, and a refrain that keeps circling back to “We don’t belong.”
The song’s strength is in its control. Nothing here feels hurried. The drums establish a persistent forward motion while the guitars stack up around them, creating a dense, almost claustrophobic frame. When the arrangement drops into quieter passages, the change does not feel like relief so much as a reset. The tension remains underneath, waiting for the full weight of the band to return.
That approach gives “Derelict Crawl” a distinctly physical quality. Its repetition is not simply a stylistic nod to post-punk. It becomes part of the songwriting, mirroring lyrics filled with fragments of dial tones, worn leather, summer heat, and physical collapse. The imagery feels deliberately worn and tactile, as if the song is documenting a landscape through objects that have already endured too much.
Alex Riggen’s vocals avoid competing with the instrumentation. Instead, they sit inside the arrangement, allowing the guitars and rhythm section to carry much of the song’s menace. The result is darker without becoming overly theatrical, a useful distinction for a band working in territory shared by post-punk, gothic rock, noise rock, and alternative guitar music.
“Derelict Crawl” also makes sense as the first glimpse of Lions and Ore. The House Flies have described the seven-track album as a broader, more patient work, with longer arrangements, heavier transitions and quieter stretches. This single gives listeners the harder edge without spelling out where the rest of the record will go.
That sense of restraint is perhaps its most interesting quality. Rather than presenting Lions and Ore as a dramatic reinvention, “Derelict Crawl” suggests a band deepening what was already there, adding weight, space, and repetition to its Midwestern gothic vocabulary. It is a convincing first chapter for a record that appears less interested in excess than in making atmosphere hit harder.
Featured Image: Artist Supplied
