You know that moment when you’re walking alone, earbuds in, on a street that’s technically familiar but feels wrong because the light’s weird, and your brain starts looping through thoughts like they’re on a washing machine cycle? That’s this album.

Little Champion (Dustin Goldklang if you’re sending thank-you cards) just dropped ‘Peaks Island and Other Places,’ and it plays like someone found an old VHS tape labeled “emotions I forgot to process” and dubbed it over with soft guitars, half-whispers, and sugar-dusted pop sensibilities. It’s DIY, but not sloppy. Personal, but not performative. Just a slow bleed of sound that turns into a kind of hypnotic loop. Some tracks barely register as songs — they’re sketches, postcard memories with the ink running slightly in the rain. But then you hit one of those pop-forward moments and think, “Wait, was that a chorus? Did that just slap a little?” The balance between fragility and hookcraft is tightrope-thin, but Dustin doesn’t fall once.

photo by Rita Kovtun

Actually, it’s a strange album. And strange in a good way. But not strange in the sense of “I want to be original,” but exactly—unclear, uneven, alive. It gives a feeling that it’s assembled from pieces of different days, different emotions, from random conversations that somehow stick in your mind. Everything begins softly, almost home-like: acoustic guitar, slightly rustling air, as if he recorded this right in his bedroom with the window open. And then suddenly—snap!—it’s punk now. The song got tired of keeping quiet. And here you are sitting, with a gentle guitar playing on your shoulder just moments ago, and now you’re in some kind of inner storm.

It’s difficult to explain. Because I don’t think it’s genre-switching for the sake of amusement and definitely not an “experiment” like on some pretentious album. Here, it feels like a natural reaction. And this is the essence of Little Champion. He splits the album in half, or even into three parts. This album is about love. And about pain. And about how everything gets tangled up inside us. There’s a lot of duality—in the sound and in the emotions. Some tracks seem to argue with themselves, beginning in one mood and ending in an entirely different one. Sometimes even within one song. You constantly want to ask: “So, do you miss someone or are you angry? Have you forgiven or are you holding a grudge?“—and then you realize it’s both.

Dustin Goldklang’s vocals are almost untouched—clean, warm, sometimes slightly unsure, but honest precisely because of this. There’s a feeling he’s just singing how he feels. And you begin to believe this is exactly how real indie music should sound.

Interestingly, the album feels cinematic, although Goldklang surely didn’t plan to shoot any film. It’s just that if you close your eyes, you start seeing some images resembling forgotten summer evenings, walks through places where nothing special seemed to happen, but this nothing-special is precisely what was memorable. Perhaps this is exactly the magic of ‘Peaks Island and Other Places’—in its ability to create entire worlds out of the simplest, everyday images.

Music For Pacing Your Room At 2am

The album ‘Peaks Island and Other Places’ opens with the track ‘Peaks Island Ferry,’ and there’s something about this light acoustic melody that makes you smile and gives a boost of energy. This music makes you want to see something beautiful—perhaps the ocean, or maybe just your backyard illuminated by the first rays of sunlight. Next are ‘Half Moon Bae’ and ‘Suburbs.’ There’s plenty of sincerity here, plenty of inner freedom. For me, this is actually a rare ability—to create songs that make you feel comfortable even when guitars and drums are playing.

And if you suddenly think you’ve figured out the whole formula of the album, ‘Overpass’ appears—a track where folk suddenly dances with funk, and the subtle accent of alto sounds adds surprising depth and unpredictability. It’s somewhat like ordering your usual coffee, and suddenly the barista adds an unusual spice, and you’ll agree it’s always pleasant.

Then comes ‘Hall Tree,’ gently blending pop-punk with acoustic elements. This song picks you up with its rhythm and gradually starts rocking you along. And exactly at the moment your body begins to crave a pause, ‘The Other Side of Town’ emerges—a slow, nearly weightless track sounding like an evening walk after a busy day. It relaxes, calms, and provides breathing room. Among all the tracks, ‘Like the Earth is Flat’ especially stands out. It’s unique precisely due to its atmosphere. There are songs like mirrors—you listen and suddenly notice yourself. And maybe this isn’t always an easy feeling, but it’s definitely pleasant.

In ‘Rustling,’ Little Champion suddenly shifts the mood, immersing into dream-pop territory with electronic shades. The final song, ‘So Long,’ sounds exactly as the finale of a good album should. It’s a gentle, acoustic full stop, a goodbye that leaves warmth behind. Little Champion’s voice sounds open and very natural.

After listening, I was left with a feeling of gentle sadness. Not from the music itself, but from the realization that this conversation had ended. And I found myself thinking that I genuinely want to know what comes next for Little Champion. What will Dustin come up with next time? Will he choose to experiment with genres again, or will he prefer to share entirely new stories? Can he maintain that sincerity and trust he managed to convey here? That’s why I wouldn’t be surprised if after some time, I hear something new from Little Champion and once again experience that quiet, inexplicable joy.

Listen on repeat, because perhaps this is the best thing one can do right now, especially considering that in terms of new music, ‘Peaks Island and Other Places’ is probably one of the brightest and most sincere discoveries in recent times.

*This review was made possible by SubmitHub