Porij - Teething (LP)

Manchester’s Porij have always sounded like a night out that accidentally turns into morning. On Teething, their first full-length, they finally bottle that feeling. It’s a debut that treats dance music not as a costume but as muscle memory, folding UK club pulses into guitar-led pop with a light touch and a sharp ear for hooks. Released in April 2024, it arrived just as festival season warmed up, and it feels built for exactly that moment when a field of strangers suddenly moves as one.

What hits first is the rhythm section. The drums snap and shuffle, never stuck to a grid, while the bass glides with a rubbery confidence that nods to garage and house. Over the top, bright synths flicker and guitars chime, leaving lots of space for Egg’s vocal to land cleanly. There’s a conversational quality to the singing that suits these songs. They’re personal, but they never sag under the weight of confession. Even when the lyrics get prickly, the tracks keep their shoulders loose.

The band’s hybrid has been shaping up over a few EPs and busy tours, but Teething tightens the screws. You can hear it in the way grooves evolve inside a song. A verse will tease a garage skip, and by the chorus the kick has thickened, the hi-hats open up, and suddenly it’s all hips and heat. Then a guitar line arrives with a little indie sparkle and the song snaps into focus. It’s clever in a casual way. Nothing feels forced, which is rare for a dance-rock blend.

If you’ve caught Porij live, you’ll know they like to let the rhythm breathe. That sense of air is here too. They resist the urge to stuff every bar with ideas. A handclap tucked into the pocket does more work than a synth stack. A chorus holds back just enough that you want to chase it. When the tempo drops, the writing holds. There’s a late-night ballad tucked in that leans on soft keys and a muted kick, and it lands because the sentiment is clear and the production knows when to step aside.

The singles did their job, especially You Should Know Me, which arrived with that sly, modular hook that winds in your head hours later. It’s a handy entry point. But the deep cuts seal the deal. Mid-album, they thread a bassline that could have rolled out of a 2am DJ set, then lace it with a vocal melody that would sit fine on a festival main stage. It’s the kind of trick that makes you grin the second time through because you can hear how neatly it’s been stitched.

Porij have always felt like a Manchester act in the best sense. There’s lineage in the way they treat the dancefloor as a communal space, and there’s a pop streak that refuses to apologise for wanting big choruses. The production keeps that balance honest. Percussion is crisp, low end is warm, and nothing gets sacrificed to loudness. On vinyl, the bass sits wide and plush, and the high hats keep their bite without fizzing out. If you’re crate digging for Porij vinyl or looking to buy Porij records online, Teething is the one that will convert the curious. It’s also the most convincing case yet for stacking Porij albums on vinyl next to the UK dance crossovers that still get pulled for parties.

Critical response has been strong across the UK press, and you can hear why. Teething doesn’t overreach. It trusts taste and touch. The sequencing is tidy, the pacing smart. There’s an opener that sets the temperature with a lean, garage-schooled beat, a couple of bright, immediate singles in the first half, then a twilight stretch that lets the band show range without losing momentum. The closer pays off by circling back to the album’s core idea, dropping the BPM while keeping the pulse alive.

As a debut it works like a calling card, but it also stands on its own as a record you can live with. Put it on while getting ready, or when people drift back to yours after a show, and it slots right in. In a Melbourne record store it’s the sort of staff pick that would sit next to the listening station with a scrawl that says, “Indie heart, club bones.” If you’re in the market for Teething vinyl, you won’t be disappointed by how these tracks bloom on wax, especially if you care about low end. And if you’re browsing for vinyl records Australia wide, keep an eye out. This one will get a lot of spins, not because it chases trends, but because it makes you want to move and then gives you a reason to stay.