What We Don’t Say Out Loud: Unpacking Alex McCulloch's 'Gord'

by Static Mouth Society

Image Credit: Album Cover for "Gord" by Pezo the Poet Source: SoundCloud

We got the amazing opportunity to get a sneak peek at Alex McCulloch’s new EP Gord. It’s the kind of album that doesn’t just ask you to listen — it asks you to think, to feel, and to sit with things that might not make sense right away. It’s layered, emotionally complex, and sometimes elusive, but always intentional. For fans of her previous work — especially Bourbon and Love Songs — this new album feels like a natural progression: quieter, heavier, and more inward-looking.

“Gregory”

“Gregory,” is a track that perfectly captures what Gord is all about. It doesn’t rush. Instead, it slowly pulls you into a world built on memory, inspirations, and subtle details that keep you engaged. The lyrics are more like clues than statements — not cryptic for the sake of it, but carefully restrained. You get the sense that McCulloch is writing from a deeply personal place, but she’s not interested in giving everything away. This choice gives the listener space to reflect and interpret, which ends up being one of the EP's strongest points.

“Empty House”

“Empty House” draws you in with a soft electric guitar line, setting the stage for some of the album’s most vivid lyrical imagery. Where “Gregory” felt introspective and coded, “Empty House” opens a window into something more visual — scenes you can picture as they unfold: not fitting in at a party, feeling out of step with the room, quietly comparing yourself to everyone else. The writing is rich but understated, offering just enough detail to let the listener fill in the rest.

There’s a quiet ache threaded throughout — the push and pull of wanting someone to stay while also needing space. That tension is mirrored in the structure of the song itself. The midsection swells with intensity, not in volume but in weight. It’s a moment that cuts through the stillness of the track, grounding the song in a real, complicated kind of emotional fatigue. By the end, it recedes again, leaving you with the sense that something important has passed, even if the words for it never quite came.

“Lidstoner”

Somewhere near the heart of the record sits Lidstoner — a love letter, but not in the traditional sense. This one’s for Gord, her favorite lyricist, and it’s beautiful in its simplicity. It’s not just admiration; it’s connection. Alex sings about wanting to be his friend, about how his music reminds her of people she used to know, and you can feel that quiet kind of ache that comes with nostalgia. It’s tender and a little bittersweet — the kind of track that makes you think about the artists who’ve shaped your own life and the people who came with them. Lidstoner fits so well into Gord’s larger themes of memory, identity, and reaching out — even when you’re not sure the other person will reach back.

“Drum Circle”

The beginning? We felt that. It’s subtle, but it says so much — like she’s taking a breath before saying something she’s been holding in for too long. “Drum Circle” feels immediately different from what we’ve heard so far. There’s a heat to it. It’s jazzy, a little smoky, full of tension in a way that’s not loud, but felt. It’s emotional, yes — but it’s not falling apart. It’s composed and clear, which somehow makes it even more vulnerable.

Lyrically, it hits on something a lot of us know: that moment when you can’t hold it in anymore. When you have to tell someone how much you care, even if you don’t know what they’ll do with that information. There’s longing, maybe some regret, but also this sense of acceptance. She knows what she feels, and she’s not trying to bury it. It’s raw and direct in a way that’s refreshing — no metaphors to hide behind, just the truth.

There’s also something incredibly self-aware here. The song doesn’t spiral — it builds. It processes. You can hear her working through it in real time: the wanting, the fear, the surrender to whatever comes next. It’s powerful in this quiet, deeply human way. You don’t need to know who “Drum Circle” is — you just know what it feels like to care that much.

Out of all the tracks on Gord, this one might stick with us the longest. It’s the kind of song that makes you stop what you’re doing, just to sit in it. And chances are, if you’ve ever worn your heart on your sleeve — whether it ended well or not — this one’s going to hit home.

Alex McCulloch' Accessed June 4th, 2025, from https://alexmcculloch.com

“Silver Spoon”

We love that this one leans gently into the folk side of the album. It’s soft, steady, and pulls you along without forcing anything. It feels like we’re being let into a private moment, one where the weight of a decision is just starting to settle in.

The story here feels layered: someone trying to get close, trying to understand her better, and being turned away. There’s vulnerability in that, but also a kind of quiet accountability. We follow her into a cab ride, where she ends up listening to a stranger’s story, letting the night spill out around her. She’s wondering who else is out there — who else is up late, singing sad tunes, trying to make sense of their own choices. Is it her? Is it Matthew? Is it anyone, really?

It’s reflective without being self-pitying. There’s a moment of realization — she said she wanted to be alone, and now she is. Now she’s stuck with the consequences: scrolling through her phone, lost in a screen, maybe too proud or too afraid to reach back out. It’s a familiar kind of sadness, the kind that creeps in when the world quiets down.

“Silver Spoon” doesn’t give us answers. It just sits with the question: what happens when you close a door, and you’re not sure if it should’ve stayed open? It’s about solitude, sure, but also about the uncertainty that comes with the space we ask for. It’s soft, but it lingers — a quiet reminder that even our smallest choices leave ripples.

“Angel”

This track closes the album with one of its strongest emotional punches. It starts off deep and rich — no hesitation, just right into it. It’s another love song, sure, but this one hits differently. There’s longing, hope, maybe even desperation, but it’s all handled with care. The build in her voice after the intro tugs at your chest — it’s soothing and raw at the same time, like something you weren’t ready to feel but recognize instantly.

It lives in between wanting and knowing you might never get what you want. About being drawn to someone — someone you don’t even really know — and still feeling like it could break your heart. There’s a line about not pinning hopes on Madeline, but also asking to hold her, saying there’s time, there’s space. That push and pull of desire and doubt is so real, so familiar.

Instrumentally, it leans into the same warmth we heard in “Drum Circle” — that jazzy smoothness, paired with synths that round the sound out without softening the emotion. It’s gritty and tender at once, a blend that reflects the emotional complexity of what she’s singing. That tension — between control and surrender, between being careful and being completely undone — is what makes “Angel” so powerful.

If “Drum Circle” is about saying the hard thing out loud, “Angel” is about holding that hard thing in your chest and trying to make peace with it. It’s an incredibly human way to end the album — not with resolution, but with feeling. And maybe that’s the point.

Gord isn’t loud or showy, and that’s exactly what makes it so important. In a music world that often rushes to deliver instant emotional payoff, Alex McCulloch invites us to slow down. She builds space for vulnerability, for ambiguity, for the kinds of questions that don’t always come with answers. Across these five tracks, themes of longing, solitude, connection, and emotional honesty unfold without ever demanding resolution. It’s about living in the in-between — that awkward, tender space where we process our choices, sit with our feelings, and maybe learn to be a little more honest with ourselves. In the current indie scene, where authenticity is often promised but not always delivered, Gord stands out. Not because it tries to explain everything, but because it dares not to. And that kind of honesty? That’s going to matter for a long time.

You can stream Gord on most major platforms starting June 6th. If you’ve been moved by this record the way we have, let her know — indie artists thrive on connection, and this one’s worth rooting for. To keep up with Alex’s latest releases, thoughts, and the occasional beautifully written caption, you can follow her on:

Instagram I Facebook I Threads I SoundCloud I Spotify I YouTube I Her Website

Or you can listen live at the Black Swan Tavern on the first Sunday of every month from 4pm-7pm!