Art. by The Nightbirds: Album Review

by admin February 21, 2026

February 21, 2026

The Nightbirds crash-land into 2026 with ART., a snarling, basement-born album that sounds like it crawled out of some cold Maine rehearsal room with its teeth still bared. Though the band hails from Auburn, their heart seems welded to the underground, favoring tension over comfort, momentum over polish, and emotional collapse over clean catharsis. Think Fugazi grit and Drive Like Jehu restlessness, wired with the volatile spirit of Sonic Youth and Smashing Pumpkins, but spun into something distinctly their own. Recorded at Ashpool Studios, a DIY bunker in the frozen depths of Maine, the record uses organic atmospheric reverb and smart miking to make every serrated guitar and restless drum hit feel close enough to taste.

“2000 Miles” kicks the door in first. Dirty, gnashing riffs drive the track forward while the vocalist chews the scenery with a thick, theatrical delivery. He’s eccentric, energetic, and oddly magnetic. When he repeats “I can feel your love 2000 miles away,” it doesn’t sound sentimental; it sounds obsessed, like distance has turned affection into a fever.

Later on, the longest named track in the album, “Imperial Cruelty Extraction,” leans into the band’s more satirical streak. Smug, grimy riffs churn over a moody, stalking groove, while that same hefty voice spits and sneers with a punk-poet disdain. It’s heavy, but there’s a crooked grin baked into its DNA, like the band knows exactly how absurd the world is and is content to soundtrack the chaos.

By the time “FATHER” arrives, ART. is fully in free fall. Thumping, hard-hitting beats, splashing cymbals, and a wall of distorted guitars create a barely-contained meltdown. The vocal performance is reckless and intense, teetering on the edge of shouting without ever losing intent. Altogether, ART. grabs you by the collar and drags you into its storm.