A quiet room. Three players. More air than distortion—and somehow it feels heavier. We invited Blake Skipper from Shallowater to pull back the curtain on a second album that trades pedal stacks for patience, lets the drummer steer dynamics, and turns the bass into a melodic foil that fills the trio without clogging the mix. If you’ve ever wondered how slow/fast shifts can feel cinematic, or how minimal gear can still shake a room, this one lands right in your wheelhouse.
We trace the band’s path from Lubbock House shows to an independent release that knows what it wants: space, restraint, and intent. Blake breaks down how songs form in the room, why lyrics usually arrive last, and how a well-timed TikTok plus an Ethel Kane playlist slot helped the music find its people. There’s candour about the DIY grind—distribution, merch, schedules—alongside the pure joy of first tours, late-night drives, and fans who cross state lines for 45 minutes of slowcore catharsis. Expect talk of odd-time grooves, drummer-led accelerations, and the subtle choices that make quiet passages tense and loud moments bloom.
We also explore how reviews reflect the band’s bet: some call it sparse, others call it necessary. That’s the point. When you remove the extra, the melody has to carry, the timing has to mean something, and each player has to leave room for the others. Blake shares what’s ahead—new writing, deeper interplay, and dates with The Raveonettes across Chicago, New Jersey, New York, Philadelphia, and DC—plus a hope to bring their “dirtgaze” north to Canada. If you care about slowcore, alt-gaze, Texas indie, or simply how a small band can sound big through intention, queue it up, lean in, and let the space do the talking.
