NOT MYSelf build alternative art rock from Victoria and Vancouver, Canada, with “the art of perseverance” giving their music room to move across different sonic and emotional territory. Their songs favor poetry over explanation, and the album’s unpredictability keeps each piece distinct without breaking the connection between them. In a culture built around quick rewards, they choose the slower form: a full-length record that asks for time and gives each song enough space to remain itself.
butterflies
“butterflies” works through forward motion, letting its energy build without rushing toward a payoff. The description gives the song a patient momentum, but the title suggests something more delicate moving inside that motion. “Butterflies” is a small image with enough instability in it to keep the song from sitting still.
That sense of movement matters more than any fixed destination. The track is described as enticing and surprising, but the useful detail is the patience: it does not need to sprint to hold attention. Something keeps developing, drawing the listener farther in without revealing exactly where it is going. “butterflies” leaves that movement open. The name suggests flight, but not a route. It keeps going.
montana when I die
“montana when I die” starts from a simple premise and refuses to complicate it: dance now, because there may not be a tomorrow. Even from the brief description, the title carries a strange combination of mortality and place, while the song itself is framed around the physical impulse to move. The important thing is not what Montana represents, but the decision to dance before there is time to reconsider.
That impulse fits the band’s broader description of the art of perseverance, an album built from different emotional and sonic territory rather than a single fixed mood. “montana when I die” appears to occupy the more immediate end of that range, where the body gets an instruction before the mind can turn it into a philosophy. Tap your toe. Then dance like there is no tomorrow. The title keeps the song pointed toward somewhere beyond the dance floor, but the song’s premise stays in the present. Death can wait for Montana. For now, the music is moving.
