With 2024 reaching its twilight, the world’s ears, eyes, spirits and minds seek a greater substance to build brighter states of being upon the principle core of simple subsistence. The general malaise of seasonal depressive inertia has been exacerbated and arguably amplified by the inescapable civic trends toward autocratic ensembles and demagoguery performed by egotists with isolationist, anti-everyone/anyone-else overtures. And in the face of this we find solace in the folks from our communities both locally and globally that provide spaces for the senses and progressive sensibilities. The artists that break through doom loop broadcasts of eternal cycles of entropy provide visions of joyfulness, journeys of inspiration, illustrations of respite and revolutions, sounds that strike with chords of sincerity. Within the deluge of timelines that can have us feeling helpless, we can find the beaming glow of harmony out of the death knell hum of hopelessness by adjusting (if we listen and look toward the places of understated innovation).

Delivering a sweeping and succinct record to sundown a year fraught with frustrations and a litany of grievances is the moving self-titled from one of Oakland’s most beloved bands, figure eight. One of the Bay Area’s best and most slept on acts, they are some of the shiniest and most humble stars of a scrappy—yet prolific—scene of lionhearted upstarts. The principle duo of Nash Rood and Abby Goeser have expanded to a quartet to include the talents of Nicholas Coleman from Softie and Pork Belly’s Nicky Esparza. Debuting with their lauded EP drown, figure eight turns up the tidal roar light of their sound like amplifier vacuum tube bulbs, ever expanding in their creative scope like tungsten filaments rising up n heightened degrees of temperature.

Big guitar waves roll gently, largely, and loudly like the cosmic patterns of lunar motions that conduct the chorus of the sea’s mighty sway. The opener "a window" rocks with the slow core steps where the swells of feeling ignite into levy breaks of brash chords that quake like fallen pillars and walls from forgotten worlds. The energy and urgency moves even larger and faster on "braided", where Abby's voice echoes like a voice moving through a network of hallways as the band catapults toward places of the privy, sacred, and sentimental, reaching toward astronomical heights.

"1999 (cherry)" arrives with a fury that finds its groove like a time warp that summons the lost tapes from the best obscure local act that played a few gigs, had two releases and faded into the obscurity of the late twentieth century’s shuffle. The grand finale "clio" features figure eight firing on all four cylinders, a six minute plus showstopper that cannonballs through the galaxy like a shooting star that graces the infinite horizon with particles of fiery light. The self-titled from figure eight offers some of the biggest sounds you will find all year long that rocks and rages with intention, potency, power, pride, and the care to carry on toward something better (and brighter).

Nash Rood shared some thoughtful meditations on the processes, perspectives, and more that inspire figure eight:

Between dissonance and euphoric states of sweet harmonic bliss — insights on achieving this unique balance.

We’re constantly teetering on the edge between being a noisy punk band and a soft indie/ambient band. Abby and I are always going back and forth. There’s so much great energy in playing loud, heavy, fast, emotional music that I think all of us in the band really resonate with. At the same time, Abby and I love creating ambient soundscapes and pull a lot of inspiration from artists like Ana Roxanne, Laraaji, and April Magazine. I guess this indecisiveness has created our sound without us really trying.

But it’s made it hard to advertise ourselves [laughs]. I feel like no one knows what genre we are or what our set is going to sound like because we’re constantly changing things. sometimes me and Abby will play a duo set and it’s just one ambient song for 15 minutes. Other times we sound more like a punk band. We don't even know what genre we are or what our next songs are going to sound like. It’s all these contradictory influences and really just our own fluctuating vision for the band that creates the balance in our music.

Notes on the synergies and developments that have contributed to the evolution of the figure eight sound.

Figure eight is a relatively new band–we only played our first shows in January of 2022–but it’s already gone through a lot of different phases. members coming in and out, home recording, studio recording–ideas constantly shifting. The band as it is now with Nick Coleman and Nicky Esparza is the most cohesive form of the band by far, though, and I couldn’t imagine the band working with a different lineup. Figure eight has moved from being a bedroom project of me and Abby to a collaborative band between all four of us. We’re all writing the songs now and all have our own ideas for how to push the band.

It’s really difficult to be a band in 2024 and not be making music that’s already been made a thousand times over or is just the trendy genre right now. the internet makes uniqueness difficult. But I feel like the four of us all exist in slightly different worlds and when we’re writing a song together we’re all sort of trying to write different songs. We all hear things differently. I bring a guitar part to the band trying to write an ambient song but Abby hears something in Nick’s bassline that reminds her of Sade so she sings an r&b song. Nicky says the song sounds like Flipper and plays drums like he’s in a punk band. But somehow it all works. That’s the figure eight sound at this point.

Artists you all have discovered that are doing amazing things in the world.

We’ve played with a lot of great bands on tour that we’re constantly inspired by. to name a few: drive your plow over the bones of the dead (Vancouver), Twistur (PDX), Sun Entire (Montreal, Québec), Close (Washington DC), Expose (Los Angeles), Webb Chapel (Philadelphia).

And every band on Cherub Dream Records. The Bay Area scene is going to blow up soon for sure. But if it doesn't, that's fine too. I like how we exist in our own little world just for each other. But the rest of the country is sleeping on this scene right now for sure.

Our album cover is a painting by Luis Cruz–a visual artist based in Argentina. All of his work is really beautiful. Really honored to be able to use some of his work within the figure eight visual world.

Items and reflections on what 2024 has shown you all and how it has influenced you all both personally and creatively.

2024 has been about making really intentional decisions to guide my life in the direction(s) I want to go, no matter how difficult it seems. Both personally and creatively. We toured the east coast just because we wanted to share the experience with our friends in pocket full of crumbs and see a new area of the country and connect with new underground music scenes. It didn’t really make any sense for us to be out there but we made the decision to do it and we did it. And it was awesome. No more waiting around, just making some shit happen.

It's really difficult to have a creative practice, especially to tour, when rent is so high in Oakland and you’re living paycheck to paycheck, but it’s possible. After our east coast tour I worked for 33 days straight to make money back and pay off our rental car, etc. Being a musician in 2024 just takes a lot of intention and devotion. Devotion to your craft, to your spirit, to the love of art. Our EP explores some of these ideas in a roundabout way.

Figure Eight’s self-titled is available now via Cherub Dream Records.