by Khagan Aslanov (@virgilcrude)
Witch Victim are completely undaunted by their own lineage. The Calgary band shares a family tree with some of the city’s best psych and post-punk acts, Bridgeland and Paisley Haze among them. And yet, without much assumption or noise, here they are, dropping one of the early contenders for 2025’s most beautiful records.
Ethereal, but never languid or too abstracted for its own good, on their self-titled full-length, Witch Victim give the listener a chance to stormily slide into a spectral state, deftly evading the overly lethargic pitfalls that their genre too often collapses into. This is dream pop, yes, but with distinct serrated edges. If you’ve ever been a fan of “When You Sleep” or “Jenny Ondioline,” look no further than Witch Victim.
These six taut songs pulse with elegant life, each like a capsule fizzing on the tongue, uncoiling their nuances with patience and expert curation. Just listen to vocalist and guitarist Hann Jade’s croon warily glide atop as “Car Alarm” turns from vapour to agitation, or the jittery squalling runout of “Sleep Coda,” and tell me you aren’t having a good time.