After making a strong first impression with their 2024 self-titled debut, Evansville’s Grow Blind return with Everything I See—a follow-up that trades much of their early chaotic energy for a slower, moodier descent into darker sonic territory. It’s a notable shift, one that leans into atmosphere and tone over outright aggression. The production is dense and polished, packed with low-end heft and gritty textures, but the overall execution doesn’t always rise to meet that weight. At times, the EP feels like a band stuck between evolution and hesitation.

The opening track, “Big Dreams,” sets the tone with promise. Sludgy, slow-burning riffs crawl forward over a thick, ominous bassline that lands with intent. The drums bring a snappy double-snare pattern that adds momentum without overpowering the groove, while the guitars spiral into hypnotic dissonance—moody, textured, and just off-kilter enough to keep things interesting. But when the vocals enter, the spell breaks slightly. Thin and somewhat buried beneath the instrumental mass, they lack the bite and presence needed to match the intensity of what’s happening behind them. It’s a song that sounds big, but never quite feels like it hits full stride.

The middle section of the EP—“Two Sided Mirror” and “Pointing Fingers”—continues in a similar vein, carrying forward the sludge-leaning guitar tone and thick bass that now feel like the project’s sonic backbone. And while the instrumental performances are tight, the fire behind them often feels dimmed. The rhythm section maintains a slow, stalking pulse, but the vocal performances rarely cut through with enough urgency to make the tracks truly ignite. Even the group-shouted moments, typically a staple of hardcore catharsis, land without much weight. There’s a sense of disconnect—as if the band is musically unified but emotionally out of sync.

“Carry the Truth” briefly rekindles some of the urgency that made their debut feel alive. The opening section moves with more purpose, and for a moment, the energy aligns. But just as the track begins to build momentum, it dips into overly simplified riffing and a midsection that lacks variation. The tight production can’t hide the fact that the arrangement feels undercooked—holding back where it should push forward. It’s a recurring issue across the EP: the ideas are solid, the tones are thick, the mix is dialed in—but the performances sometimes feel stuck in second gear.

That said, the closer, “Homebody,” offers a glimpse of what Everything I See could have been if that tension between sound and energy had resolved more often. Anchored by a groovier, more confident rhythm, the song immediately feels more locked in. The guitars are sharper, the drums more responsive, and—crucially—the vocal cadence finally cuts with personality. There's a swagger here, almost flirtatious with rap-style phrasing, that gives the track a unique edge. It channels the bouncy aggression of Trapped Under Ice or early Turnstile, and for the first time on the EP, it feels like Grow Blind are having fun again—even if it's filtered through a darker lens.

As a follow-up, Everything I See is a clear attempt to mature the band’s sound, to pull back from pure explosiveness in favor of something moodier and more layered. And to their credit, the production and sonic identity are strong: the tones are filthy in the best way, the pacing is deliberate, and the aesthetic shift is bold. But the trade-off is that much of the emotional immediacy—what made their debut so gripping—feels diluted here.

When Grow Blind manage to align their technical skill with performance intensity, they still shine. But across most of Everything I See, it feels like they’re holding something back. Whether intentional or not, the result is an EP that often impresses the ears but doesn’t always move the body. Still, there's clear potential in this darker direction. If the band can recapture the urgency of their earlier work while continuing to refine these moodier textures, their next chapter could be something genuinely special.

Rating: 6/10