Weird Nightmare - Weird Nightmare (LP) - Cotton C&y Swirl Vinyl

Alex Edkins stepping out from METZ to make a pop record could have felt like a stunt. Instead, Weird Nightmare’s self-titled debut lands as a grin-inducing reminder that hooks and noise can be best mates. Released on 20 May 2022 through Sub Pop, it takes the bite and grit Edkins is known for and reframes it as ragged power-pop with a soft spot for melody. The guitars still snarl, but the choruses cling like a sunburnt singalong on a long tram ride home.

You hear the mission statement straight away in Searching For You. It opens with a fuzzed, almost sandblasted riff, then pivots to a chorus that punches up rather than out. The song moves with classic three-minute logic. Verse, chorus, a tart middle bit, then out. It’s neat, but never tidy. That balance runs through the record. Edkins pairs rough edges with sweet vocal lines and pockets of tambourine sparkle, so the songs feel immediate without being flimsy. There’s a lineage here that points to Jay Reatard, Buzzcocks, even the sugar rush of early Teenage Fanclub, but the delivery is very Edkins. He knows how to make distortion feel rhythmic, not just loud.

Wrecked is the other instant hit, and it earns its place as a standout thanks in part to a guest turn from Bully’s Alicia Bognanno. Her voice cuts through the fuzz like a high beam, locking into Edkins’ melody with a push-pull that brings out the song’s anxious heart. The melody is bright, but the guitar scrape keeps a rasp in the throat. It sounds like a road song that knows the roadside diner coffee will be terrible but stops anyway.

Then there’s Lusitania, featuring Chad VanGaalen, which leans into a woozier, slightly off-kilter mood. VanGaalen’s presence adds a ghostly shimmer, and the tune drifts with a crooked lullaby feel that suits the record’s late-night side. If the album starts in the garage, Lusitania cracks a window to the attic, where the light is weird and the dust makes its own weather. It’s an airy detour that never loses the pulse.

Part of the charm lies in how Weird Nightmare keeps its palette simple. You can tell a lot of this was born from home recording instincts, the kind musicians sharpened during lockdowns. The drums thump like they were tuned for impact rather than gloss, and the guitars are saturated but not suffocated. Edkins layers vocals so they nudge the songs toward classic pop shapes, then lets some feedback fray the edges. It’s the old trick of making everything bigger by letting a little chaos in. The record doesn’t drag, either. It clips along, each track arriving with a clear hook and leaving before you’ve checked the clock.

While METZ remains a reliable source of head-down catharsis, Weird Nightmare is the giddy cousin who shows up with a crate of battered 45s and a bag of gummy lollies. That shift didn’t go unnoticed. The album drew warm notices from outlets like Stereogum and Exclaim!, both of which picked up on how Edkins translated his knack for tension into sugar-rush songwriting. It’s not a retreat from heaviness so much as a different lens, and it works because he never forgets the body feel of a big riff. You can practically hear the room rattle.

If you spend time digging through Melbourne record store bins, you know this kind of album by touch. It’s the one with a matte sleeve, a striking photo, and a tracklist that looks like a set you’d happily watch in a sweaty front bar. On turntable, the fuzz blooms and the backing vocals sit a touch warmer, which is why Weird Nightmare vinyl is the fine way to live with it. The punch of Searching For You has that extra chew, and Lusitania’s hazy edges feel more painterly. If you’re looking to buy Weird Nightmare records online, hunt down the Sub Pop pressing. It’s clean where it should be, hot where you want it. For collectors, Weird Nightmare albums on vinyl sit neatly next to METZ vinyl, a tidy A-B of one songwriter’s two speeds.

This is a debut that doesn’t fuss about reinventing the wheel. It pumps the tyres, drops the seat a notch, and sends you flying down the hill. Short songs, big choruses, a couple of inspired cameos, and a tone that keeps the grit under your fingernails. If you’re building a basket of vinyl records Australia side and want something that snaps between noisy and sweet without losing its footing, this belongs in it. Put it on, turn it up, and let the hooks do the heavy lifting.