Plash impressively muses through the roads of life on i live alone

This comes off completely true to those in their 20s, the time when we’re still figuring ourselves out as we go through our ups and downs – going through our daily routines, reflecting and wondering if things will eventually end up okay. A band like Plash acknowledges such moments as well, spelunkering through energetic math rock as Jaseul Oh sings and writes in both English and Korean.

He, alongside drummer Luca Cartner, guitarist James Lee, and bassist FD Riverhill, leaps across the entirety of their debut, i live alone, where melodies tumble across blissful cadences, rupturing rhythms, and stirring progressions – the sort of combination that can end sounding too pristine or tough to follow – yet their tenacious fervour allows them to pull you into the jam. Cuts like “sona” and “market research” spark stirring compositions that soar and fall with ease. “My favorite word” leans into lilting acoustics and hushed singing, then flips as the pulsating melody charges through with power. Then “Aea” careens through jittery melodies swirling around Oh’s fluttery voice, just before it ramps up the melodic rush across the guitars and drums.

This expansive melodic breadth deeply evokes Plash’s wandering introspection, with an uplifting optimism that their compositions only echo further. Take the magnificent one-two punch of “telebee” and “lowaho”. The former song rummages around Oh’s sense of belonging. “I realize it’s plain to see / that I’m not who I used to be”, he sings as he takes stock of his conflicted stasis in his present stasis. This unfolds throughout the latter song, with its impactful progressions taking its enthralling hook as an important part of the album’s thematic arc: “Isn’t it enough to be alive / how many ways are there to live life”. It’s both an answer and a question. A firm statement to keep moving onwards, but also be curious about what is really there in finding our space in our mortal lives.

The answer to that curiosity lies through the rest of this project. He embraces the people that are worth sticking around (“pretend”), accepts the concept of failure and tries to understand a close connection by learning and speaking their language (“mungmung”), and acknowledges that acceptance and change are what will lead him through a fruitful path (“here2”).

Yet on the last track, “self-portrait 1993”, it carries the most distinction. Oh’s vocals glide across glittery keys as the drums pummel in and out, building up to a remarkable instrumental passage before ending with these lines: “Ever wonder how it ends / ever wonder when it ends / I can assure you / nobody knows / yet everyone goes”. Here, he recognises that living is embracing the unknown and finding what becomes important to us.

For a debut, Plash have introduced themselves with a captivating ear for melody and an eye for introspective depth. i live alone never loses traction, always reaching the skies with gusto and optimism. Despite the struggles of living alone, we find meaning in life through others who will help us discover what’s worth cherishing.