youbet
youbet
HARDLY ART
On their self-titled album, youbet make no attempt to affix a clear identity to the band. Initially the project of Nick Llobet—who’s already released a pair of adventurous records under the moniker—the NYC outfit has now expanded into a duo with Micah Prussack, a bassist and fellow music educator who counterbalances Llobet’s chaotic sensibilities. But just like how youbet’s previous albums can hardly be judged by their aesthetically divergent covers, the interesting coincidences that define the project’s history don’t tell you much about the musical world they’ve spent over a decade building. Before Patti Smith was shouting out Geese, a chance encounter with the former encouraged Llobet that they were on the right path, while the latter’s Dom DiGesu took music lessons from Llobet for years beginning when he was 11.
It wouldn’t be accurate to say that the simple facts of musical chemistry and persistent hard work have resulted in youbet being the breakthrough it is, if only because it’s a great record that’s markedly allergic to hyperbole. “I’m a little undefined,” Llobet declares early on the album, reeling from a breakup while speaking to the new record’s overarching ethos. Yet far from an amorphous blur of vibey ideas, the album certainly adds more definition to the sinewy, searching palette of 2024’s Way to Be. Hooks abound, but the duo seem more interested in making songs that get under your skin as opposed to merely stuck in your head. Right off the bat, the crispness of the mix—aided by co-producers Katie Von Schleicher and Julian Fader—does wonders to contain the swirling layers of guitar effects that grip your attention on opener “Ground Kiss.” Even when one of Llobet’s solos sounds within the realms of Big Thief at one moment and noise rock the next, their approach is always penetratingly exact.
The record is too raw to feel belabored and too detailed to bore. Its unpredictability is thrilling: the expansive “Ground Kiss” is immediately followed by the hardcore ferocity of “See Thru,” which surprises with its burbling synth. That song’s grinding bass makes an unlikely return on the jauntier “Worship,” while the similarly nervy “Receive” accentuates its hypnotic effect with bleeps and whooshes. But just when you think you’ve found the appropriate, trendy signifiers—post-punk, countrygaze—youbet throws down a wild card, whether that’s the moody cosmic country of “Bad Moon” or the curious psychedelia of “Embryonic.”
Llobet is still credited as the primary lyricist and composer of these ten songs, but their dynamic with Prussack—at times reminiscent of NYC scenemates Lowertown, or mui zyu across the pond—is not only propulsive, but vivifying. There are moments like “Receive” where the vocals and bass are clearly in lockstep. But more than offering a shared language, their friendship also seems to help Llobet step out of an insular headspace steeped in sin, longing, and generational malaise. On “Nadia,” an acoustic highlight revolving around the refrain “I’m nothing,” the backing vocals are so gentle I had to double-check they weren’t coming from Prussack, whose contributions (along with Von Schleicher’s synths) often feel like receiving a string of emojis when you’re in a lowercase void. It’s on that understated track that youbet come closest to identifying the alchemical power of their new iteration: “Redefined in the tempering fire / Shadow into gold,” Llobet sings, leaving you hopeful for whatever else rises out of it.
