REVIEW: Mother Mother - Nostalgia

After almost two decades of carving their place in the alt-rock landscape, Mother Mother’s Nostalgia arrives as something rare and self-assured. It is a record that looks back without losing its footing in the present, an exploration of memory that avoids sentimentality in favour of something more honest, more tender, and ultimately more enduring. Releasing on June 6th, with singles like 'Finger' and the deeply affecting 'On And On (Song for Jasmin)' paving the way, Nostalgia is not just a nod to the band’s earlier sound. It is a full-circle moment that manages to feel both familiar and entirely fresh.

Mother Mother have always had a flair for theatricality, for songs that swirl with emotion and eccentricity. What sets Nostalgia apart is its restraint. These tracks do not scream for attention, they pull you in. They build worlds in miniature, and then quietly ask you to stay a while. It is an album that rewards patience and close listening, where every layered harmony, every lyrical spiral, feels purposeful.

Opening track 'Love to Death' sets the tone with a blend of taut energy and lyrical complexity. There is something deliciously twisted about the way love and destruction intertwine here. The harmonies are crisp and immediate, while the instrumentation hints at the band’s earlier, rawer days, without ever sounding dated. It is a confident opening that announces the record’s dual mission: to revisit the past, and to say something new. That duality continues with 'Make Believe', a dreamlike track that toys with nostalgia in the purest sense. There is a drifting quality to it, as if memory is being reshaped in real time. The band do not lean on production tricks here, instead letting the melody do the emotional heavy lifting. It is reflective without being vague, anchored by lyrics that feel plucked from an old journal, but reframed with the insight of experience.

'Station Wagon' is one of the album’s most evocative tracks. There is a cinematic quality to it, built around imagery that feels lived-in. You can practically hear the gravel under the tires, feel the sun through the windshield. It is a song about moments you didn’t realise were important until much later, and it lands with quiet precision. The focus track 'On And On (Song for Jasmin)' is the album’s emotional centrepiece. Written with delicate clarity, it distils love, grief, and longing into a single breath. It never tries to be larger than life. Instead, it stays grounded, offering its message with an almost devotional sincerity. The repetition in the chorus, the gentle unfolding of the arrangement, the intimacy of the performance - all of it works in service of a song that feels timeless. It is not just a standout on the album, it is one of Mother Mother’s most poignant songs to date.

Midway through the record, 'Better of Me' and 'Namaste' offer two different takes on the same emotional terrain. The former is all jagged edges and self-awareness, while the latter veers into tongue-in-cheek territory, poking fun at self-improvement culture even as it nods to real attempts at peace. The humour never undercuts the sincerity. If anything, it makes it more human. Then comes 'Finger', the last single to drop ahead of the full release. It is sharp, chaotic, and undeniably catchy. Built around a jittery riff and a snarling vocal performance, it captures the kind of frustrated energy that simmers beneath the surface of the album. It is unhinged in the best way, the musical equivalent of ripping off a bandage and laughing through the sting.

What follows is a string of more introspective tracks that deepen the album’s emotional impact. 'Me & You' strips things back to near-acoustic simplicity, a moment of softness and stillness. little mistake plays like a confession whispered into a pillow, while 'Mano a Mano' reintroduces drama with a stomp and a smirk. Each song feels deliberate, carefully sequenced to guide the listener through the emotional terrain of the record. The title track 'Nostalgia' arrives near the end and acts as a thesis statement. It does not lean on grand gestures. Instead, it threads together the album’s themes with a kind of quiet certainty. There is melancholy here, yes, but also acceptance. It is a song that understands the past for what it is; flawed, formative, unrepeatable. The closer, 'To Regret', leaves the final word lingering in uncertainty. It does not tie things up with a bow. It lingers in the complexity of feeling and lets that be enough.

Sonically, Nostalgia is confident and cohesive. There is no bloat here, no filler. Every track earns its place. The production is clean but not sterile, allowing the band’s distinctive vocal layering and melodic instincts to shine. It is a record that feels thoughtfully made, both in its sound and in its structure. More than anything, Nostalgia is an album that trusts its listener. It does not pander or posture. It asks you to remember, to reflect, to sit with things that may not have easy resolutions. In doing so, it captures something genuinely rare; the feeling of time folding in on itself, of old versions of yourself resurfacing not to haunt you, but to remind you of how far you’ve come. Nostalgia is not just a return to form. It is a return with purpose, grace, and just the right amount of bite. Mother Mother have delivered a record that feels like home, even when it hurts.

Score: 9/10

Nostalgia will be released on June 6th via Warner Music Group.

Words: Kelly Gowe

Photos: Mother Mother