Scarlet Rae – No Heavy Goodbyes (Bayonet) (13th Floor EP Review)
Every so often an artist emerges who feels both familiar and utterly distinct. Scarlet Rae, born in Los Angeles and now based in New York, is one of those.
A true DIY artist, she began crafting songs alone on GarageBand before drawing the attention of mentors and producers who helped her refine, but not dilute, her vision. Her sound draws on emo, grunge, and shoegaze, but she twists those influences into something intimate, spectral, and deeply personal.
No Heavy Goodbyes, her self produced debut EP, is a fearless and clear-eyed exploration of grief, anxiety, and resilience. Written in the wake of her sister’s death, its five songs confront loss and survival in equal measure. Rae’s lyrics are raw, direct, diary-like confessions, while the music ranges from hushed and haunting to aggressive and cathartic. The result is an EP that feels both fragile and unbreakable.
The opener, A World Where She Left Me Out, sets the tone with quickly strummed guitar that shifts between aggression and retreat. At times the music drops out to leave Rae’s vocals bare and trembling, at others the echoing guitar and pulsating drums surge forward in crashing waves. It’s a dynamic track, embodying the confusion and questioning of grief. When Rae spits out the final line: “I’d thank you again if you didn’t fucking do it,” the moment is both shocking and devastating, setting the standard for the honesty and directness that runs through the EP.
Where the opening track is visceral, The Reason I Could Sleep Forever is spectral. Whispered vocals drift over slow strums, before descending riffs and fuzzed-out chords crash in, only to fall away again. The synthesiser swirls with uncertainty and dislocation and Rae seems to be grappling with unresolved thoughts. The final pick and strums make the push and pull of the song linger.
Bleu is claustrophobic, driven by stop-start guitar strum and quiet, intimate vocals. Rae questions address a third person, yet land squarely with the listener: “But I can’t save you / Just know I love you.” The brevity and simplicity of the lyric are undercut by the disorientating buzz that recurs beneath the surface; words of warmth over a bed of uneasy textures. It’s a song about love in the shadow of despair, a moment of connection that acknowledges its own limits.
Reverberating guitars meld with Rae’s vocals on Light Dose, creating a sense of closeness, like a secret being shared. The second half of the track is dominated by swooping drones and echoes, pulling the listener into a hypnotic, destabilising haze.
Closer Call Off the Day is the EP’s darkest and most categorical statement. Chords shift under heavy guitar tones, vocals buried in their echo. Percussion and hisses mark transitions as discordant notes cut through, building to a noisy crescendo before stuttering to a stop.
No Heavy Goodbyes is not background music; it demands attention, and rewards it with depth and honesty. Rae has taken the emotional drama of emo, the dynamics of grunge and the atmospherics of shoegaze, and filtered them through her own experience of grief and resilience to create something distinctive and compelling. These five tracks mark a remarkable debut from an artist who already sounds like no one else, and who promises much more to come.
John Bradbury
No Heavy Goodbyes is released Friday, Sept 19 on Bayonet Records. Click here to Pre-Order
