There’s nothing clean about grief. Nothing poetic about watching someone you love fade away. “Skeletons” by The Dog’s Body doesn’t flinch from that. It stares it straight in the eye — and somehow still finds beauty in the mess.
Born from a deeply personal loss, but built with enough sonic intensity to carry the weight of anyone else’s grief too, “Skeletons” is raw, loud, and unapologetically honest. And in that honesty, there’s a strange kind of relief.
This one hits close to home. I’ve lived through a similar kind of goodbye — the long, slow kind, where morphine replaces words and the silence after becomes its own kind of scream. What stands out in “Skeletons” is how it doesn’t try to dress that up. It leans into the cold reality: that most endings aren’t cinematic. They’re clinical, quiet, and brutal in their stillness. The band doesn’t shy away from that truth — they charge straight into it, with guitars that buzz like static in your chest and vocals that teeter between resignation and defiance.
But don’t mistake it for sadcore. There’s a fiery pulse underneath everything — a tightly wound alt-rock energy that never lets the song sit still for too long. It crashes forward, then pulls back, in a way that reminded me of Wednesday meets early Nothing. That slight shoegaze haze adds just enough distance without numbing the feeling. It’s a cathartic ride — not for the sake of being loud, but because sometimes that’s the only way to scream when words fail.
About The Dog’s Body:
The Dog’s Body call Cookeville, Tennessee home — a place that sounds quiet on paper but seems to birth the kind of music that has something to prove. Describing themselves as “Y’allternative” isn’t just clever branding; it nails the split in their sound — Southern grit with an indie heart and a healthy respect for distortion pedals. They feel like a band shaped as much by geography as by grief — and “Skeletons” is the sound of both pressing in at once.
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