In a musical landscape littered with algorithm-choked playlists and brand-safe radio edits, Mr. Softheart comes forward in a defiant whisper. Their latest EP, Reflections On Primitive Action, spins a glittering web of discontent, yearning and sleazy dramatics on this six-track stunner. It’s the hottest release of the summer and arguably the most enigmatic thing to crawl out of Des Moines since… well, ever.
“Comedians have that percept about how you need to suck at it for a decade before you finally start sounding like yourself and things get interesting,” said Nick Fisher, the band’s frontman and lyricist. “So it is with music, or at least the type of music we’re doing.”
Reflections On Primitive Action is not your shitty quintessential “turning 30” album. There’s no defeatism here. Instead, Mr. Softheart leans further into their strange brilliance.
The record opens with “Inertia I,” a track that begins not with a melody, but the words of English novelist Martin Amis. “The world may not be getting better—it is getting less innocent,” he says. It sets the tone for the entire EP. Bleak, reflective, yet pulsing with life.
That pulse continues seamlessly into “Inertia II,” a dreamlike descent into American malaise: economic despair and vanishing dreams. “Foray into nothing, finding steady work for no pay.” The line lingers in the air like heat off asphalt. But this isn’t a dirge. Even at its most disillusioned, the song is buoyed by hazy synths, like a synthetic lullaby.
With “Calling Sister Sea,” the tone shifts. A melodic synth leads the listener into a vision of the seaside — not sunshine and cocktails, but crashing surf and political decay. “A thousand eyes, a thousand lives — all just windows through which to see America crashing.” This synth-pop funeral for a country in decline is weirdly catchy.
Then comes “Drowning in the River (Of You),” the standout track. Sexy, funky and devastating. “Good morning! How ya been? I been drowning in the river of you…” It’s hard not to fall for the song’s sleek drum machine and sensual vocals. “What’s that you do to me? Do it some more.” It’s sultry without being cheap. It grooves and aches in equal measure.
“Tip of the Spear” opens with the echoing voice of Halen Becker, “The dilettante drugstore poet crawls the stage,” before diving into the EP’s moodiest meditations. It’s self-indulgent, assuming the band sees themselves as well-cultured poets who happen to grace the lives and ears of those around them. Delivered with a breathy detachment, the song summons the apocalyptic humor of poet Vijay Seshardi, whose book can be seen on the EP’s cover. The song is slow and seething, luring the listener further into Softheart’s dream-like critique of reality.
Closing track “Sweetbriers” is one of the EP’s more upbeat tracks and stays true to its name. Induced by love and drenched in a sharp sweetness, the track’s poetry is lumbering and hazy, describing love’s duality in a melancholic blur.
Reflections On Primitive Action is not background music and should not be listened to that way. With its analog textures, sleazy synths and intimate lyricism, the EP is handcrafted: equal parts nostalgia and future shock. The sound is human, despite its mechanical heartbeat.
The band recorded most of the album at home with a rotating collection of synths, guitars and an old Alesis drum machine. Nick shared that his brother and fellow bandmate, John Fisher, ran many synths through effects processors, scored at a bargain from an elderly lady off eBay. Final touches and drums were added with the help of Phil Young at Trillix Studio, with live drum contributions from session player Aaron Knight (Kl!ng, Daisy Glue). It’s a labor of love, patched together by many helping hands.
Mr. Softheart is entirely their own species, adjacent to punk, flirtatious with dream pop and soaked with electronic intimacy. Gravely sexual in their drum machine’s pulse and dangerously gentle in their guitar’s hush. There’s curated restraint here, but also boldness.
This article was originally published in Little Village’s July 2025 issue.
