It's the first time since their 2015 debut, Dig Yourself, that they've had a full band, with drummer Patrick Wall and bassist Andrew Nitz, to build with. Where on releases like 2022's sparkling lockdown-pop Hiding In Place Devora and Glass had gone into producer and mix/master engineer Will Yip's Studio 4 with sketches and worked with Yip to arrange the songs in studio, this time, they went in with a complete vision for the record. That allowed them to use studio time to expand the record's sonic boundaries. "We had a lot more room to play with some of the ear candy we've always wanted to explore and get weirder in the studio," says Glass.  Those elements lend a physicality and playfulness to the memory and emotions that unfurl through All Again. "We're trying to tell the story of when you look back at an important relationship," says Glass. "Years go by, and the more you reflect on it, it becomes more warped and the facts become a little bit more murky. We wanted to play with that and get surreal with the story." (Literally: listen for a "monster" voice in the already-released banger "Karaoke.") The record's artwork, conceptualized by Devora, renders this idea with devastating clarity.  "It starts and ends at these bookends," Devora explains of the first and last songs, but the bookends-and really, most of the spaces along the way-could be the beginning or the end, depending on how and when you hear them. Devora wrote "All My Friends" while Glass was away working another tour. It's a sweet, intimate love song, but in context on All Again, it's also an introduction to the record's story. Many of the songs follow this example: personal experiences that are recontextualized in a semi-fictional narrative.
Lead single "Horny Hangover" is destined for a spot in the messy situationship canon with it's instant-anthem chorus: "I get a horny hangover every time you cross my mind," Devora groans, the victim of irrepressible magnetism. The slow heartache waltz of "All My Friends" will release next, followed by "Bitter Pill," a driving churn of overdrive and charged drums that backdrop a turn in the story, where sadness and denial mutate into anger. "You're like, 'F*** you, your best friends, everyone who is related to you,'" explains Devora. This phase continues on "Go Down Easy," a heavy look at abuse and substance use that recasts queer relationships with nuance and humanity. This one, too, is destined for live sing-alongs, with it's delicious gang-chant: "God damn you, and I mean it!" After the heart-pounding indie-rock romance of "Last To Try" comes the woozy, lovesick closer, "Do It All Again." But in these distant closing seconds, you just barely catch a hummed melody that reminds you of everything that was just experienced, and carries you back to the beginning. Even when something is over, it's not really over, is it?