SINGLE REVIEW: Jeremy Serwer – Horns and Stars
‘Horns and Stars’ opens in a low, uneasy swell—guitar tones that creep like mist, thick with tension but not in a rush to go anywhere. Then, a sharp shift: a catchy little groove snaps into place, giving a flash of rhythm before slipping away just as quickly. That back-and-forth moment only lasts seconds, but it sets the whole mood. When the groove returns for good—this time with vocals riding on top—it lands with intent.
There’s a natural drama to how the song unfolds. The instrumentation stays dark and textured: chiming guitars, robust drums, and bursts of weight that crash through without losing control. The vocals are melodic but slightly off-centre in the best way—expressive, artistic, and full of personality. They don’t feel forced or overly styled, just delivered with a kind of strange, confident flair. The harmonies in the second half are especially strong, layering in extra movement and space without softening the edges.
It’s the structure and mood that really carry this one. Everything feels deliberate. That early tease of rhythm, the eventual lock-in, the way it holds tension even after settling into its stride—it all works to build a song that feels like a story. There’s a theatrical quality to it, but it never gets cheesy. Instead, it sits somewhere between shadowy post-punk and twisted folk rock, all with a sense of cinematic unease.
‘Horns and Stars’ has a presence to it—authentic, unusual, and genuinely interesting. It’s rough around the edges in the right way, but still full of smart choices. It doesn’t lean on any single idea too hard. Instead, it creates a space, fills it slowly, and lets you sit in the middle of it. One of those tracks you want to play late at night, just to see what else reveals itself when you’re not looking straight at it.
