Roscoe Tripp - Tiny Antelopes

Tiny Antelopes, the new album from Roscoe Tripp, doesn’t waste time trying to pin itself to one lane. It’s a restless, guitar-forward indie rock record that zigzags through eras and subgenres, pulling tricks from the classic rock playbook while tossing in enough curveballs to keep things unpredictable. What struck me right away was the balance: the band clearly loves big riffs and catchy choruses, but they never get too comfortable. There is always some left turn waiting in the wings.

The opener, “Dik-dik, Pt. 1,” sets the tone with swagger. It brushes up against arena rock and southern fried guitar tones, but refuses to plant its flag anywhere specific. That genre fluidity becomes one of the album’s strengths. It feels like a band rummaging through the record collection of their youth, pulling out pieces that still hit, and rebuilding them in real time.

“This Place Called Crystal” is an immediate standout. It’s hooky, sure, but what got me were the unexpected shifts, the sudden detonations, the dynamic pivots that don’t feel like gimmicks. That same unpredictability shows up on “moUse Rat,” which slides into an 80s tinged groove that’s surprisingly danceable, and on “Low,” which dials up the atmosphere and even brushes against post rock.

“When the Stalks Are Low” drives hard, riding a tight groove with no wasted motion, while “Feels the Same” manages to rock out while subtly warping its own structure. I kept finding myself nodding along and then going, wait, did they just flip the time signature? “Can't Wait to See You Again” might be the most fully realized track here, the kind of song that anchors an album and lingers in your head long after it ends.

What I loved most about Tiny Antelopes is how each track manages to feel distinct without breaking the cohesion of the whole. It’s the kind of album that feels like the band has been playing together forever, chasing a shared language that is still evolving in real time. Good stuff, start to finish.

SPOTIFY