Hurry by June The Destroyer: Album Review

by admin March 3, 2026

March 3, 2026

Hurry by June The Destroyer: Album Review

Out February 21, 2026, Hurry introduces June The Destroyer as far more than another folk-rock duo with a city to mythologize. Victoria Fuller and James Karfilis, working out of Toronto’s Port Lands with singer-songwriter Len O’Neill, shape a record that feels rooted in the skyline yet restless beneath it. The album wrestles with modern life in all its mess, online intimacy, public accountability, rising costs, mortality, and the exhausting pressure to stay switched on, while still leaving the door cracked for hope.

Even the cover art gets in on the joke: two lovers facing the Toronto skyline while an alien abduction hovers like a casual house call, as if the unknown might be the only sane thing left to believe in. That tension between absurdity and yearning runs right through Hurry, giving its folk-rock, alt-country, and ’90s alternative leanings a sharp bite.

“Hot Coffee” kicks things off in wonderfully unsettling fashion, opening with eerie, echoing vocals and the kind of guitar haze that feels like stumbling into a half-empty café at 2 a.m. Then the track tightens the screws: beats settle in, fuzzed riffs flare up, cymbals bustle, and the chorus bursts open with higher harmonies that hit like a jolt to the system. Beneath its swagger, the song takes a hard look at privilege, comfort, and the invisible cost of convenience, landing lines like “when your coffee’s nice and hot / someone’s is not” with a sting that lingers.

Then “Break Down, Get Down” slides in, marrying deep bass, heavy grooves, wah guitar, and Fuller’s clear, velvet-rich vocals to lyrics that skewer financial dread, modern romance, and late-capitalist burnout. It’s sexy, funny, and fed up all at once. By the time “Find Me In The Morning” arrives, Hurry shows its softer underbelly, with gentle strums, frolicking piano, tender male vocals, and Fuller’s breathy glow gradually bloom into something sweeping and almost ecstatic. Even as it sings about algorithmic longing and praying “unto the apps,” it sounds real.

And that’s the ace up this album’s sleeve: it stares down the noise, then finds beauty in the wreckage.