In the gritty underbelly of modern rock, where nostalgia often masquerades as innovation, Boulder trio The Velveteers carve out a savage niche with their sophomore album, A Million Knives.
Released on Valentine’s Day 2025 via Easy Eye Sound, this 12-track beast clocks in at a taut 43 minutes, channeling the raw fury of ’70s glam-punk and garage revivalism into something fiercer than their 2021 debut, Nightmare Daydream. Frontwoman Demi Demitro, flanked by guitar duties and dual drummers that thunder like an approaching storm, delivers a record born from road-weary vulnerability—one that stabs at personal injustice and emotional rawness with unapologetic precision.
The album erupts with “All These Little Things,” a scuzzy garage-rock opener that hooks you with its snarling riff and Demitro’s leather-clad wail, setting a tone of defiant intimacy. From there, it shapeshifts masterfully: “Suck The Cherry” drips with playful menace, its blistering anthems laced with indie melody, while “Bound In Leather” struts like a Blondie tribute laced with disco venom.
The title track, “A Million Knives,” shifts to a dreamy ballad, Demitro‘s voice a haunting echo over sparse percussion, evoking the quiet ache of PJ Harvey‘s Rid of Me—a rare moment of restraint amid the chaos.Then comes “Moonchild,” a hulking blues-rock behemoth that demands you shimmy, its sassy coda blending ’70s stoner swagger (think Wolfmother) with cinematic sway. The acoustic closer “Up Here” offers a breathy reprieve, its echoey vocals recounting heartbreak with touching grace, proving the band’s growth beyond mere revivalism.
A Million Knives isn’t for the faint-hearted—it’s a positive, gritty leap forward, balancing vulnerability with stadium-sized ambition. The Velveteers aren’t just nodding to rock’s golden age; they’re arming it with fresh daggers. In a year desperate for authenticity, this is the record that cuts deepest.
