Shaking Hand: Shaking Hand [Album Review]

Shaking Hand
Shaking Hand
Melodic Records [2026]

“Six-minute grooves, glowing guitars, and zero wasted motion — this one hits like a midnight walk with the volume all the way up.”

Album Overview: Formed in Manchester, the trio came up through late nights in rehearsal rooms wedged between old mills and shiny new high-rises. That constant rebuild shaped their outlook. There’s always a tug between memory and forward motion in their sound. Early songs started as home recordings during lockdown, then grew into full-band sessions once they could finally play together again. That mix of isolation and shared sweat runs through Shaking Hand, recorded with producer David Pye (Teenage Fanclub) at Nave Studios in Leeds.

Shaking Hand introduces a band chasing mood and movement over neat, radio-ready structures. The record plays like a walk through an unfamiliar part of town after dark. Empty streets suddenly glow. Corners feel alive. Songs stretch, build, and pull back, creating a steady sense of tension and release. The performances feel raw and immediate, like you’re standing a few feet from the amps while they hum. For a debut, it’s remarkably confident, favoring feel over polish and instinct over calculation.

Musical Style: Interlocking guitars lead the charge, supported by elastic bass lines and drums that change patterns when you least expect it. Clean tones sit beside grit, and silence is used just as carefully as noise. Riffs loop until they feel hypnotic, then snap into sharp turns. The band balances intimacy with sudden bursts of volume, keeping listeners slightly off center in the best way. With most songs pushing past six minutes, Shaking Hand gives itself plenty of space to explore new rhythms, textures, and left-field detours without losing momentum.

Evolution of Sound: Early demos came from bedroom experiments with odd tunings, giving the songs a wider palette from the start. Once those ideas hit the practice room, they gained weight and shape. Tracking live foundations helped bottle the energy of their shows, while unconventional mic setups added grit and character. The result doesn’t feel pieced together. It feels like a band figuring itself out in real time and capturing the sparks as they fly.

Artists with Similar Fire: If you lean toward the tense minimalism of Slint, the art-damaged sprawl of Sonic Youth, the loose charm of Pinback, or the hushed warmth of Yo La Tengo, you’ll feel right at home here. There’s also the intricate guitar interplay of Karate and the angular tension of June of 44. At the same time, flashes of melody nod to Real Estate, The Shins, The Dismemberment Plan, and Acid Dad, grounding the songs even when the arrangements wander into stranger territory.

Pivotal Tracks: “Night Owl” hits hardest and most direct, built around a hook that sticks long after the final chord. “Sundance” opens up the band’s tunings into wide, ringing textures that feel both hopeful and uneasy. “Mantras” leans into repetition until it turns trance-like, while “Cable Ties” slowly stacks tension before cracking wide open. The seven-plus-minute “Up The Ante(lope)” flexes some serious muscle with its stop-start rhythms and dynamic shifts. “Italics” provides a breather, letting the melodies stretch out before the record ramps back up.

Lyrical Strength: George Hunter’s writing favors fragments and flashes over straight narratives, which gives the album a personal but slippery feel. Lines arrive like half-remembered thoughts scribbled in a notebook at 2 a.m. In “Sundance,” he opens with the blunt confession, “Bury me I’m rotten / I was in it for the pardon,” setting a tone that mixes guilt and self-awareness. “Night Owl” keeps things simpler and more communal, repeating “I’ll wait up for the night owl” like a late-night promise to no one in particular. Elsewhere, “Italics” turns inward with “The miracle drug, a rhythmless thud… there’s no chance of certainty, I’m sure,” capturing that push between control and doubt. Even the darker corners hit hard, especially on “Cable Ties,” where “They laid me on the tracks and bound my hands with cable ties” lands with stark, physical weight. The imagery never spells everything out, but that’s the charm. Meaning sneaks up on you the same way the music does.

Final Groove: For a debut, Shaking Hand sounds remarkably sure of itself. It’s exploratory post-punk without drifting, heavy without losing heart, and patient enough to let every groove fully bloom. The band trusts the moment, and that confidence pays off again and again. If this is them just getting started, the next chapter could be something special.

SHAKING HAND LINKS
Instagram | Bandcamp | Melodic Records