The current landscape of mainstream music feels pretty empty right now. I’m looking at a list of upcoming releases, and the most interesting thing is currently a Morgan Wallen album. And if that’s not a sign of dire times, that he’s still popular despite everything, then I don’t know what is. To cope with this barren schedule of releases, I’m covering something insane–because why not? I’ve been searching for a release that will surprise me, and if I find something that surprises me to this extent, I feel obligated to talk about it.
Shearling is a newly formed experimental rock band made up of former members of the noise rock band Sprain. Sprain gained a decent buzz in underground circles for their 2023 album “The Lamb As Effigy.”
Sprain was a weird band: for some, filling the hole for fans of shouty noise-rock after the Daughters lead singer turned out to be an abusive monster. Unlike Daughters, Sprain was never as bombastic or tuneful. They opted for a tempered, slow-burn approach instead of kicking you in the face. Sprain disbanded in 2023, and Shearling feels like a proper continuation of the sounds they explored.
In 2025, the hilariously titled “Motherf—–, I am Both: ‘Amen’ and ‘Hallelujah’’ is an album unlike almost anything else you’ll hear this year. For starters, it is a one-song album, clocking in at around one hour and two minutes. In spite of being a single track, the album explores a million ideas at once. Because it’s technically one song with shifting sections, I’ll be referring to different parts using timestamps.
The album starts off with a bang–loud, grinding guitars and banging drums. The introduction hits like a starting gun. This cacophony sets the tone before colliding with Alex Kent’s vocals. This is where things go off the rails. Kent manages to embody both ends of a panic attack, from screaming so viscerally you’d think he was being stabbed, to sounding so achingly vulnerable he might break. This dichotomy gives the album an unpredictable edge. One moment might be heartbreakingly gentle, the next chaotically untamed. At the 24-minute mark, the instrumental background swells under an angelic harpsichord, while Kent sings on the verge of breaking. By 35 minutes, we’re back to distorted raging guitars.
“Motherf—–, I am Both: ‘Amen’ and ‘Hallelujah’” is an incohesive album. It bounces between styles and genres at a rapid pace. One moment it sounds like a Slint-esque post-rock track, and the next, like a Black Country, New Road’s b-side from their last album. The album resembles a panic attack–from the fleeting moments of depressive calm to the destructively noisy moments of complete distress. In that sense, I do respect the album a lot. Weirdly, it even hits some shockingly catchy moments. Overall, the chaos turns the album into a blur.
That said, I’d be hard-pressed to ignore the writing here–it’s shockingly poetic. The narrative-explored throughout its runtime, like a twisted love story filled with symbolism of horses, sex, and religion. It explores homophobia and sexual exploitation with lines like, “Now every slobbering resident of Eden knows of our little escapade, Adam and Steve share a passionate kiss under the western white pine.” It references the homophobic phrase “It’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve,” and calls out policies like “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” implemented under the Clinton administration.
“Motherf—–ucker, I am Both: ‘Amen’ and ‘Hallelujah’” is deeply troubling, and whether you’ll be into it depends on your tolerance for experimental, emotionally draining music.
In some ways, its chaos reminds me of my favorite album of last year, “Hotel La Rut” by Joanna Wang. I called that “musical sketch comedy.” Shearling is closer to ”musical black comedy,” almost the musical equivalent to A24’s 2023 film“Beau Is Afraid,” An extended look at a man losing his mind. The album ends fittingly on droning noises that sound like planes flying close overhead. As Kent gives up singing, he yells into the void. The product is as bleak and harrowing as it sounds.
“Mothef—, I am Both: ‘Amen’ and ‘Hallelujah’” is an album I’m glad exists. It’s not one I’ll revisit often, nor is it easy to recommend. But if you’re looking for something unique and disturbing, this is your record.
Author
Hello there stranger, this is Kate Megathlin, writer for weekly music reviews for the Seattle Collegian, here to assert how much more important her opinions are than yours. She is a Seattle Central student with a major love of music and music culture, and every week she’ll try to deliver reviews of new albums coming out, if you want to recommend albums for her to review, email her at Kate.Megathlin@seattlecollegian.com.
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