“Decide” is the kind of track born from a very specific modern purgatory: that existential waiting room you enter after a job interview, where time stops, your inbox becomes a malevolent deity, and every notification ping triggers a fight-or-flight response. It’s in that liminal space wherein dread and hope do the tango in. And somehow, instead of turning into a stress-ball-shaped song, “Decide” emerges as a bright, jangly slice of power-pop catharsis. It captures the sensation of anxiously tapping your foot for hours, but rearranges all that nervous energy into melody, harmony, and something suspiciously close to charm.
What makes the track click is its beautifully imperfect construction. That DIY spirit gives the song its grounding; its humanity. It’s not polished into oblivion; it actually breathes a little. And that breathing room lets the small details shine, especially the piano, which ends up being the emotional anchor of the whole thing. It’s a really pretty line; genuinely lovely, delicate without feeling like it’s trying too hard, and it immediately calls to mind The Mountain Goats’ Dark In Here. Not just because “piano + feelings = Mountain Goats,” but because it taps into that same vibe the album nailed: thoughtful melancholy delivered with the confidence of musicians who know exactly what they’re doing without needing to show off about it.
But the comparison works on a deeper level too. Dark in Here had this great low-key tension, like John Darnielle was pacing around a dim room thinking out loud while someone quietly played keys behind him. Decide carries that same energy, except the stress isn’t biblical doom. The piano sets the emotional lighting, the DIY production keeps it honest, and the whole thing feels like real thoughts sung in real time; less apocalyptic dread, more everyday anxiety… just turned into something surprisingly beautiful. The group keeps a trace of Americana humming under the hood, but power-pop now steers the car and it steers with confidence. Think Fountains of Wayne if they stopped smirking for five minutes, or Old 97’s if they discovered introspection but kept the swagger.
And that’s why “Decide” lands so well. It’s catchy without pandering, thoughtful without sinking into gloom and warm without drifting into sentimentality. More importantly, it hints that Southbank is entering a new phase. If this blend of jangly clarity, narrative honesty, and quietly gorgeous instrumentation is the new baseline, then the band isn’t just finding its footing. They’re starting to build something that could genuinely surprise people.
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About the Author
A tenured media critic known working as a ghost writer, freelance critic for various publications around the world, the former lead writer of review blogspace Atop The Treehouse and content creator for Manila Bulletin.
