REVIEW: Hot Mulligan - The Sound a Body Makes When It's Still

Hot Mulligan have always thrived in contradictions. They’re loud yet tender, sardonic yet devastatingly sincere, the kind of band who’ll name a track 'I Fell in Love With Princess Peach' while singing like their lives depend on it. Their fourth full-length, The Sound a Body Makes When It’s Still, sharpens those contradictions into something deeply affecting. It’s an album that dresses grief in absurdity, uses humour as armour, and turns chaos into catharsis. Where their earlier work leaned heavily into scrappy emo-pop-punk energy, this record feels like a band simultaneously growing up and refusing to stop clowning around. The titles are still ridiculous, but the emotions underneath them are sharper than ever. What results is a track list that’s equal parts reckless noise, heavy introspection, and an odd kind of comfort in the mess.

The opener, 'Moving to Bed Bug Island', doesn’t explode out of the gate - rather, it simmers with unease, like the silence before an argument. It’s a slow-burn introduction that proves the band can do restraint without losing tension, foreshadowing the turbulence ahead. Any restraint vanishes with 'And A Big Load', where guitars screech, drums slam, and Tades belts like he’s coughing up frustration. Beneath the absurd title is exhaustion dressed as mania - the feeling of barely holding yourself together but still screaming through it.

Perhaps the emotional centrepiece arrives with 'Monica Lewinskibidi'. The jokey name disarms you, then the lyrics gut you. Written in the wake of Tades’ grandmother’s passing while the band were touring Japan, grief bleeds through every shouted word. “It’s 5 am in Tokyo…” isn’t just a line - it’s a portrait of distance, guilt, and mourning on the road. Then comes 'Monster Burger and a $5 Dollar Beer', Hot Mulligan at their most gleefully reckless. A jagged riff keeps threatening to collapse under its own weight, but somehow stays afloat. Messy, loud, and tailor-made for sweaty basement shows, it has already earned praise from fans for its twinkly guitar lines.

The collaboration on 'Island in the Sun' brings Cory Castro of Free Throw into the fold, and it doesn’t feel like a gimmick. His voice blends in seamlessly with the vocals from Tades and Chris, forming a three-way lyrical storm that turns desperation into harmony. It’s frantic, heartfelt, and one of the record’s biggest emotional payoffs. The momentum continues with 'Slumdog Scungillionaire', a shapeshifter that begins deceptively soft and almost tender before exploding into distortion and fury. It stitches three moods together in a way that shouldn’t work but somehow does, embodying the album’s unpredictability.

A quick breather arrives with 'Shhh! Golf Time', more interlude than full song, but proof the band understand pacing. After the density of the first half, this cheeky moment keeps the record from drowning in intensity. Things sharpen again with 'Big Knife, Little Knife', where angular riffs and pointed pacing give the song its bite. The lyrics spiral between irritation and comedy, as if Tades can’t decide whether to laugh or scream - so he does both.

'Japanese Parking Lot' feels like it could slot onto almost any Hot Mulligan release, showcasing what they do best: mathy, jittery guitars underscoring desperate shouts and a chorus built for cathartic singalongs. Lyrically bleak but sonically euphoric, it’s the contradiction fans have come to love. The left-field moment comes with 'Death at the Dentist', a slower, heavier cut drenched in reverb. It feels suffocating in the best way, the sonic equivalent of a panic attack. Not an easy listen, but it widens the band’s palette and deepens the album’s arc.

The title track, 'The Sound a Body Makes When It’s Still', closes things not with fireworks but with a bruise. Eerie, unsettling, and quietly devastating, it leaves the listener to sit with stillness, stasis, and the inevitability of endings. The lingering echo makes the record feel complete, refusing the catharsis of a big finale and instead offering something haunting.

The Sound a Body Makes When It’s Still is Hot Mulligan at their sharpest and strangest. They’ve taken the chaotic energy that made them emo darlings and layered it with grief, reflection, and experimentation. The silly titles remain, but they’re camouflage for some of the rawest writing of the band’s career. What makes the record work is its balance: the manic highs, the gut-wrenching lows, and the humour in between. It doesn’t always feel polished - at times it’s jittery, messy, overwhelming - but that’s exactly what makes it powerful. It captures the contradictions of being alive: laughing at yourself one second, breaking down the next. Hot Mulligan certainly aren’t reinventing themselves here, but they’re refining the beautiful chaos they’ve always embodied. The result is an album that feels equally cathartic for the band and for anyone listening. It’s loud, it’s devastating, it’s ridiculous - and it just might be their best work yet.

Score: 8/10

The Sound a Body Makes When It’s Still was released on August 22nd 2025 via Wax Bodega.

Words: Mia Gailey

Photos: Hot Mulligan