With their new single ‘Better Days’, Ottawa indie duo Wotts lean into the art of quiet resilience. It’s the kind of track that seeps into your skin like the tail end of a humid summer night, where you feel everything a little more acutely than you’d like to admit.
Built around a gently pulsing piano line that acts as its emotional anchor, ‘Better Days’ paints its soundscape in soft washes of synth, atmospheric guitars, and a beat that shuffles rather than stomps. There’s a great contrast here between retro and now, sadness and sweetness, presence and memory- that gives the song its heartbeat. Imagine if Tame Impala spent a week curled up with Plastic Beach and a stack of late-night thoughts. That’s the neighbourhood Wotts are writing from.
Jayem’s vocals don’t try to overpower the production- they ride it, hushed but clear, like someone talking to themselves just loud enough for you to hear. There’s no melodrama, no oversized emotional climax. Instead, ‘Better Days’ simmers in the moment just after a low point, when the sky is still heavy but the air has started to move again. The lyricism doesn’t beg for sympathy, either. It simply offers a kind of sonic journal entry, scribbled in lowercase: things hurt, but maybe not forever.
What’s most compelling is how the band resists the urge to wallow. Even in its melancholy, the track sparkles. It feels honest, tinged with uncertainty but edged with warmth. That duality extends to the project at large, with the upcoming ‘FLANK!’ EP promising to be a meditative walk through various forms of loss. But ‘Better Days’ proves that Wotts knows how to find light in reflection, not just in escape.
There’s an unforced intimacy to this song, like it was written in the quiet hours and never intended to be shouted. It probably wasn’t. But Wotts doesn’t need volume to hit you hard- they just need a few well-placed notes, a little bit of haze, and the courage to say what most people won’t: that sometimes the only way forward is to sit with the ache and wait for the sky to clear.