A fusion of chaotic impulses, insatiable desires, and a perpetual yearning, Shirt plays with the tension between one's person and persona – the weight of your dreams crashing up against your reality.
Shirt is instantly recognizable as Porches' heaviest album to date. Grungy guitars that shine with a menacing glint, drums and bass that punch you warmly in the stomach, interspersed with moments of eerie calmness to create a physical sense of tension and release that resonates with each track. From moments of punk-fueled aggression to introspective country-twanged respites, the album combines an array of influences to create the sensation of a mood on the brink of swinging.
On “Bread Believer,” the message is something like, you can believe in anything – money, a new religion, a new band. It’s an anthem where nihilism is on the brink of devotion. “Rag” sets expectations and flips them. The song begins as an acoustic bounce along the road that quickly spirals into the raw and bratty energy of a band playing their first party. “Joker” is a country song strapped onto the back of an intoxicated kick and clap. “God's grace” is repeated like a mantra, nodding to a pastoral and tropey Americana - in this case a boy and his dog, but elsewhere a girl in a well, a flag on a pole. Shirt’s hyper-sentimentality is always tempered by hinting at something darker pervading underneath.
