SuperHeaven – s/t
Blue Grape Music
Score 8.5
It’s been over a decade since Jar carved out its place in the grunge revival canon—a record so raw and immediate it practically bled through the radio waves. On Bands I Know, it was in constant rotation. We wore that album out like a flannel jacket left on a basement floor.
Now, with their self-titled return, Superheaven proves they’ve lost none of that weight. This isn’t a comeback steeped in nostalgia or reinvention. It’s a deliberate, lived-in reaffirmation of everything they were—and still are. No frills. No trend-chasing. Just volume, grit, and honesty.
From the first track, “Humans for Toys,” they throw us back into the slow, churning sound they mastered. Guitars roar without showboating. Taylor Madison’s voice sounds resigned, not defeated. “Numb to What Is Real” captures a specific kind of emotional erosion—one earned through endurance, not collapse.
There’s subtlety beneath the fuzz. “You Would Never Know” drifts with worn-down elegance, heavy in tone but light on pretense. “Cruel Times,” arguably the emotional core of the album, leans into vulnerability without melodrama. It’s a song about surviving with someone, not despite them.
Everything sounds close, like it’s happening in the room with you. The production is dry and immediate. You hear every bend of the string, every slight crack in the vocals. It’s intimate, but not fragile.
Even the sequencing feels intentional. The album doesn’t build toward a climax—it sinks, steadily and confidently. Superheaven understands the power of restraint. They let songs stretch out just long enough to settle into your skin before fading back into the static. It’s not drama they’re chasing—it’s permanence.
Superheaven haven’t changed much, and that’s the point. They aren’t interested in rewriting the story. They just want you to know they’re still telling it. Loudly.
