Originally published on First Floor

Boy Harsher make music that sits uncomfortably close to the skin. And though Jae Matthews and Augustus Muller’s first proper full-length in seven years, Get Mean, comes at a time when there is no shortage of acts mining the same vein of moody synths and vintage drum machines, the duo remain committed to their distinct strain of darkwave-meets-synth-pop. Most music in this vein seems to thrive purely on aesthetics, yet there’s something about Boy Harsher that remains difficult to replicate. The group built their reputation on authenticity and catharsis, allowing the body’s primal instincts—lust, frustration, alienation, sexuality—to seep through their sound, and do so without any inhibitions. Matthews and Muller exude a kind of aching relatability, and it’s brought their band band wave after wave of attention: first when “Pain,” from the Lesser Man EP, became a YouTube sensation in 2014; again when their Yr Body Is Nothing and Careful albums saw daylight in 2016 and 2019; and now, every time a micro-influencer tags their music on an Instagram post.

The moodier fringes of post-punk have always coursed through Boy Harsher’s work, detectable in Muller’s oscillating synths and jagged rhythms and Matthews’ haunting, unguarded vocals, which are so often blanketed in a foreboding atmosphere. With Get Mean, however, the duo present a different take on the darkness that has defined much of their career. Described as a redemption album, the record—the first since Muller and Matthews ended their long-term romantic partnership—traces their renewed dynamic as collaborators instead of lovers. Where their earlier output offered an explosive expression of inner turmoil, that fiery angst has now settled into melancholic reflection. At the same time, the group’s erotic, cold darkwave also explores lighter dimensions, particularly on the first half of Get Mean, which at times sounds almost peppy. On LP opener “Ronny,” for instance, the music stays synthetic, but guitar riffs take the foreground while Matthews’ wispy words land with a hazy softness. Elsewhere, the energetic grooves and chiming keys on “Jeans” and “Break Me” lean towards universal, stadium-sized music, reminiscent of Depeche Mode and latter-day LCD Soundsystem, a move which may be intentional given the band’s recent signing to Atlantic Records.

That said, traces of Boy Harsher’s signature darkness do persist. On “Hard Beat,” their aforementioned angst makes a reappearance, injecting an air of resistance that makes the song’s pulsating beat stomp a little harder. Matthews’ crooning speaks from a place of longing on “Falling,” where the rhythm is sharp and electrifying and the high-pitched keys feel nostalgic. The record closes with the slow-paced “Bleed,” winding down the proceedings with a woozy, almost narcotic number that prompts questions of exactly where Boy Harsher are at—and where they might go next. Get Mean is an effort in which the urgency of wanting has been replaced by a gentler understanding, and though some darkness may have been lost along the way, it also hints at a promising future in spiky pop songcraft.