Three years is a strange amount of time for a debut. Long enough that the songs you started with don’t sound like the band you’ve become, short enough that you remember every argument that got you there.
For Roaches, All the Way Up, a post-something mellow outfit out of Boston, “Kills Bugs Dead” sits right in that tension — a record that had to represent both who they were at the start and who they are now. Kathryn puts it plainly: “By the time we finished it, it now had to represent both us when we started and us now.”
The band calls the album “melan-chaotic,” which is one of those made-up words that actually lands. It tracks. The record moves between punkish urgency and slow-burn emo weight, and that range wasn’t planned so much as discovered through two years of writing, clashing, and circling back. Aidan half-jokes that a fitting alternate title would have been “Struggle Songs” — “because of the nature in which we figured out how to write together with these songs.”
That figuring-out process wasn’t smooth. Everyone was mid-degree, working, running on different schedules. Kathryn describes the early days as a lot of dragging feet and prioritizing what actually mattered enough to fight for. “Getting a cohesive collaboration, nevertheless a cohesive sound, was very difficult.” But the lag had a hidden function. Aidan sees value in the drawn-out push and pull: each member would free up individually while others were busy, going person to person, slowly learning how they write together.
The friction, they all agree, was necessary. Literally — the whole band said it collectively. Without it, Aidan figures, Kathryn would still be singing backup while he played all the chords on bass. He points to “Izzy to the Rescue” as an example: originally he sang the entire thing with Kathryn joining in, changing the lyrics every time they played it, much to her dismay. That kind of tension is what eventually split the roles open and gave the songs more room.
On the engineering side, Zac’s goal was straightforward — get as close to the live sound as possible. But translating that proved tricky. Live, Roaches, All the Way Up run at equal levels, everyone on the same plane. In a recorded setting, that flattens things out. “You need a focal point,” Zac says. “As a band we’re great at leveling ourselves with each other, but figuring out where everyone sits had to be the hardest part.” Aidan adds that for how loud they are, they’re actually quieter than most bands they share bills with. It’s a detail that says something about how they think about dynamics — not volume for volume’s sake, but balance.
Three years in, the internal mood has shifted. Aidan says they’re more relaxed. Kathryn pushes back slightly — relaxed as a band, sure, but the expectations around the album grew heavier the longer it took. There are bands that pump out projects fast, and there’s something to be said for that pace. But this one needed the time it took.
Asked what they learned about themselves during the process, the answers come quick and unfiltered. Kathryn: “I’m an impatient bitch.” Zac: “Mixing is hard.” Then, a beat later: “I know nothing now. I know less now than I did then.” Aidan offers a cryptic but telling self-assessment — “I’m actually John, not Paul.” Xavier had a good time. Margot claims she got worse at drums over the last two years.
Aidan sums up the whole dynamic shift in one line: “When we started the project we were better friends, and now we’re worse friends and better for it.”
As for what to tell someone pressing play on Roaches, All the Way Up for the first time — the pitches vary. Xavier keeps it simple: “This is weird punk music.” Margot goes bold: “Are you ready to have a new favorite shoegaze band?” Aidan just asks for a chance: “Okay, hear me out.” And Kathryn, characteristically, sidesteps the whole thing: “This doesn’t help or hurt, but have you done acid?”
“Kills Bugs Dead” is out now.
