By Michael Luce
The capacity of human beings to make is incredible. Every day, hundreds of thousands of people create art, music, food, stories, code, performances, rockets, cosplay, scientific experiments, and so on, often just because they love creating. Seriously, take a moment and think about your own creative works, something you poured your soul into, spent time wrestling with, became intimately familiar with its every detail. Did you sit back and think “Wow. I did that.”? Given the proliferation of generative AI, this awe of the capacity for human creation has been on my mind a lot lately, especially the amazing vulnerability and connection that comes from sharing such acts of creation. So, I hope you will indulge me in discussing one of my latest obsessions from the creative sphere: Little Apathy by the band Aurhe.
This is an album that drips with the joy of creation. Right from the rip, it kicks off with “The Brink,” a track straight out of the opening to a 2000s movie about a teenage girl who loves to skate. A driving beat, a tasty lil’ guitar riff, and a singalong chorus unavoidably draw a smile out as you listen. I honestly can’t count the number of times over the last month I’ve woken up with this and other highlights (“Skinny Song,” “Medication,” “Jackson,” the legendary “Wannabe,” and one other I’ll get to later) stuck in my head. It’s headbangin’ hard-hitting fun with heartfelt personal lyrics and soul-ripping honesty. Genuinely, I think you could mosh, laugh, scream, cry, rage, or dance to this album, and it would all be totally valid.
Immediately, it jumps out how good this album sounds. One of the common struggles for local bands is that no matter how talented they may be, there’s often something that doesn’t quite translate from live performance into recordings. While Aurhe has generally been successful at making that leap, I think frontwoman Ava Stone’s vocals have suffered the most, losing a lot of the power and nuance she’s capable of live. Thankfully, Little Apathy shows just how much of a powerhouse she is, covering an absolute smorgasbord of vocal techniques – growls, shrieks, belting, head voice, chest voice, screams, and vocal fry to name a few.
Not to be outdone or upstaged, this album sees the rest of Aurhe at their A-game too. To echo Madeline Harris’s coverage of BotB, the rhythm section of this band is incredible. Truly, Twoee Moore’s bass and Ray Davis’s drumming are the anchor of this group, and while they both have moments where they intentionally take center stage, I challenge you to do a dedicated listen-though focused on just the two of them. I guarantee you’ll be amazed by the subtle details and immense talent that goes into their parts.
Speaking of talented, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention one of the craziest shredders in the scene, Kenyon Johnson. A healthy amount of guitar greats like DragonForce and Van Halen are evident in his influences, but the way he weaves his lines with the other three members make him memorable rather than mere imitation. Plus, each ripping guitar solo just fills my mind with memories of Kenyon surfing the crowd without missing a note.
All this talent and creative power comes to a head in the album’s final (and in my opinion, best) track: “West Scotland.” It’s a behemoth of a closer, building from a beautiful high-bass riff from Twoee into a crashing, all-enveloping wash (I’m such a sucker for songs that start small and lead to an explosively emotional payoff). The first few verses see Ava switching into a more folksy, soft indie tone for vocals, a rare treat within the Aurhe catalog. Then before you know it, you’re in a swirling soundscape of harmonized wails, anthemic distorted chords, arpeggiated mid-tones, gut-rumbling bass, and every single ounce of the feels crashing into you like waves beating into a rugged and worn shoreline. And then, right when you’re ready to just sit and erode into nothing in that delicious wash of sound, they take it away, leaving you desperate for more. I don’t really listen to individual songs on repeat, but the end of this one inevitably finds me hitting play once again just to get another hit.
My only complaint with Little Apathy might be the inclusion of “29 Cents” and “Parker,” but even that is a bit of a nitpick. Normally, a band including older singles on an album holds a release back for me. Like, it’s one thing to build up to an album and it’s another entirely to repackage years-old standalone tracks on a new record. (I know there are streaming incentives and whatnot, but conceptually it just feels like it drags the release into the past, you know?) However, on Little Apathy, the older singles are recontextualized really well, so it’s a very minor nitpick for sure.
All and all, just like their performances at Velour’s Winter 2025 Battle of the Bands were a monumental step up for the group, so too is this album. It’s a declaration that Aurhe has entered the next phase. Ava told me herself after the album release show that putting these songs out felt like an end making way for a new beginning, a catharsis for finally finishing, and I think that catharsis is well-deserved. Aurhe, you did these songs justice. Now keep on creating and don’t you ever doubt yourselves.
Be sure to follow Aurhe on Instagram and check out “West Scotland” below!