The second studio album from experimentalist Stomach Book tends to recent emotional wounds and invites us into a space of shared pain and grief to spur a collective feeling of hope for the future.
In a deep, dark corner of the music scene is an emerging niche for chaos and mania. A small troupe of musicians have taken up the challenge to meld noise, experimental, and electronic rock to form an entirely new genre of what I like to call “electromania.” Stomach Book is one of these pioneers whose discography embodies the unique style of electronic noise rock and similar feelings obtained from a sugar rush or psychotic break. Her most recent album, Sophomore Slump Callithump (released 28 February 2024), continues her legacy established in 2021 of emotional and musical expression via ultimate avant-garde electronic rock, a.k.a. electromania. Following various challenges and traumas over the past three years, Stomach Book uses this album to utilise her pain and suffering as an ultimate means of rejuvenation and healing.
A cruel collaboration of heartbreak and the death of a mother fuels the emotional fire of this album, churning songs into cacophonies of vast electronic experimentation and the painful, sometimes strained or screamed, vocals of Stomach Book. Her lyrics call out the overpowering loneliness that has taken over as a result of these life events and she showcases her feelings of aggressive hatred and pain because of this. In its entirety, the album is a satisfying outlash against some of the greatest pains of life and an invigorating juxtaposition musically between metallic screeching and funfair-esque electronic melodies. The Stomach Book staple, I’d say.
Sophomore Slump Callithump closes with an incredibly emotionally raw track titled “December 10th 2021, 11:57pm,” which directly addresses the death of Stomach Book’s mother. As a harrowing reflection of the phantom feeling left behind after the death of a parent, the song is built upon an uncanny musical construction; blending an electro-celestial feel into a flesh-eating static creates an ultimate expression of grief, cut into a blunt silence. Stomach Book addresses this particular song on her Twitter/X account, explaining:
“The reason it’s a little rougher and noisier than some other songs on the album is that I wrote and recorded it on that day, and it has been almost unchanged until release/(aside from a little bit of mixing and mastering) I thought about cutting it because it’s very personal and vulnerable for me, but I decided that the album wouldn’t have been complete without it.”
Despite the creation of the album having emerged from some of the worst moments of Stomach Book’s life, it stands as an immensely powerful expression of grief and empowerment. She invites us to this album, saying:
“It (the album) has been assembled through some of the worst moments of my life, burnout, grief, but also hope. I hope it can make you feel a little less alone.”
And, it is this idea of shared experiences, particularly surrounding grief and hope, that embodies the album; Stomach Book’s motivation to use music as an emotional outpour and as a means of connection and coming together as individuals forms the foundation of her work as a musician. Stomach Book maintains this ethos of ultimate freedom of expression (emotional and creative) and invites us to join her on a journey of recovery and growth.
Sophomore Slump Callithump marks an exciting development of Stomach Book’s career and personal, musical development. Her story and experimentalism is nurtured in this album of pain, which is a sure promise for future projects (I hope!).
Listen to the album on Spotify, Soundcloud or Bandcamp.
