I’m sitting here with this record in my hands, tilting it towards the light, staring at the sleeve, and it hits me – this is exactly the feeling we’ve lost in the streaming age. Back when music was a thing, a physical object to hold, to smell, to pore over every millimetre of its artwork.

You may think I sound like an old bore, but I’m so tired of all these endless streams. I’m 35, I remember cassettes, CDs, vinyl – and it was brilliant. So I simply want to say thank you to the lads from Bad Self Portraits from Omaha for bringing it back – restoring the physical essence of music in a world where everything has been flattened into digital flows.

photo by Carly Frolio

The band has been around since 2017, four school friends: Ingrid Howell, Cole Kempcke, Connor Paintin and Jesse White. And only now, with their new album I Think I’m Going to Hell, have they fulfilled their dream – releasing their first vinyl edition. The record came out in shops on 26 August, and today, 19 September, the album has finally landed on the streaming platforms. That order of things says a lot – first the physical, then the digital.

Across its nine tracks, the album dives into the deeply personal history of Ingrid Howell. There’s growing up in a strictly religious household, wrestling with mental health, undiagnosed obsessive-compulsive disorder, and the difficulty of connecting with people from an entirely different world. All of it is wrapped in raw indie rock infused with punk and grunge.

The opening track, Table Tennis Champion, grabs you by the hand straight away and drags you down a rabbit hole of heavy, dense rock, lifted by Howell’s bright, unhurried vocal that leans at times towards pop rock. The duality between crunching guitar riffs, steady drumming and sure-footed singing creates an atmosphere of being crushed, yet still straining to find oneself amid an oppressive and suffocating environment from which there seems no way out.

The key single Pensive illuminates one of the album’s central themes – relationships between people from utterly different worlds. Howell sings about her partner, whose outlook is a far cry from the one she was raised in. Here the music takes on a driving sway, alt-rock at its finest. The lyrics are vivid, and the song wraps you in until you feel as though you’re right inside that relationship, sensing both the tension and the urge to meet halfway.

All Bark, No Bite stands as one of the record’s brightest moments, though “bright” is a relative term. The riffs are gentler, the drums pulse with a steady beat, and Ingrid’s voice takes on a new steadiness. It’s a song about inner strength, about standing firm against whatever storm may come. The music unfurls like a flower after the rain, yet its roots run deep into stony ground.

photo by Carly Frolio

The title track, I Think I’m Going to Hell, adds a meditative layer to the whole picture. Here Howell reflects on fears shaped by years of life in a deeply religious setting. The chorus vocal soars upwards, embodying both resistance and struggle. For many, this song may well be a revelation – speaking to that very moment when outside pressure tries to break your true self.

On Ellery, the band flip their sound inside out. Bad Self Portraits show their fiercer side: sharper harmonies, a quickened pace, energy surging past the limit. It’s a blasting, vigorous track that transforms the band into a roaring rock engine. Fans of heavy alt-rock will find just what they came for.

The final track, Casio, closes the record with a cinematic sense of scale. A slow intro, gentle vocals cushioned by harmonies and echoes, guitars glowing warmly in the background – and then suddenly, it all detonates into a surge of brooding rock. The ending hurls you into open space with unstoppable force.

What’s most striking about I Think I’m Going to Hell is its honesty. Every track is steeped in candour, everything sounds lived through and felt. Howell bares her deepest struggles, and the music becomes a vessel for that raw emotion. It’s a soundtrack to coming of age, one that will resonate with anyone who has ever faced a crisis of identity. Production, too, deserves special mention. The sound breathes; it’s alive. Each instrument is distinct, but all coalesce into a single whole. And as for Ingrid Howell’s voice – it is a work of art in itself. She shifts between fragility and fierceness within the span of a song, at one moment tender and vulnerable, the next unyielding and immense. It’s through her voice that the emotional core of the record shines most powerfully.

I Think I’m Going to Hell is an album about the search for the self in a world constantly pressing to mould you. It is for anyone who has ever felt alien in their own family, fought against imposed beliefs, or carved out a path in spite of everything. Bad Self Portraits have created the soundtrack to that struggle, and it’s remarkable.

Today music has become background noise – you put on a playlist and forget about it. But the vinyl edition lends this album a rare weight. Holding the record, poring over the sleeve, reading the lyrics – it all restores the lost ritual of listening. Bad Self Portraits are setting the trend by reminding us to relish the process itself.

I Think I’m Going to Hell is precisely what an indie release should be: mature, thoughtful, personal and unique. Here, Bad Self Portraits have finally found their voice and told a story that deserves to be heard.

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