listening notes 002: king rat
The Words That Cut Me
King Rat’s debut album, The Words That Cut Me, was released on 6/6/2026 via We’re Trying Records. The album was recorded, mixed, and produced by Henry Sully, and mastered by Willyipmusic.
King Rat is Matt Guardiola, Peter Bond, Gee Taylor, and Aaron Harsh.
I had the joy of seeing King Rat perform on 6/1/26 in Holyoke, MA. It was a great evening with music from Cleansing and Radical Joy, presented by Tori Town Tapes. While I’m usually a wallflower and a homebody, I was grateful to hear about King Rat’s upcoming album and get to hear some of the music live first.
Traveling on the road from Philly, the band showed their charm and wit firsthand with a resilient performance through some uncooperative equipment. They were truly a pleasure to watch, not only during their own performance, but also in how they supported the other acts. During the set, we learned they had added a secret track to the disc. Who doesn’t love a good secret?
The Words That Cut Me by King Rat / Cover Art by Matt Guardiola
Foreword
“Foreword” opens the door with charming little details that help construct the world of King Rat. It gives us a preview of what we are about to walk through.
Cut Me Out
“Cut Me Out” comes in with sprawling guitar and smashing drums that begin to drown out the vocals in a way that feels intentional. It feels familiar to emo, but not stuck there.
There’s a chant-like breakdown that feels distinctly King Rat — a little theatrical, maybe an army of rats marching somewhere in the distance.
The melodic vocals sneak up on you. By the time you notice, you’re already singing along, and the riff is still carrying you somewhere.
That’s something I like about this album: the songs are only over when King Rat says they are. This is not an easy-to-digest three-minute sound bite. The music fills the room and does not stop. They know when to put you down gently before lifting everything again.
Out of Place
“Out of Place” picks up right where “Cut Me Out” leaves off. It starts mellow before ramping up into an absolute headbanger built for long nights on the road.
The ending is one of my favorite moments on the album. The vocals, which are often tucked into the weight of the sound, get a shining moment near the end with Guardiola desperately calling out:
“You used to tell me that I was strong, but now I’m starting to prove you wrong.”
It’s been stuck in my head for days.
Facade
“Facade” feels darker and more overdriven — like a joyride, or a secret rendezvous to a party at an undisclosed location.
The album opens up here. It gets heavier and a little more dangerous, but still feels connected to the world King Rat has been building.
Interlude
“Interlude” is a quick switch in energy from the last track. If we were walking through rooms in a house, this is where everything gets quieter, but only for a moment. The electric strumming stays with us, but the vocals get hushed and gentle, like a careful conversation, before building back into heavier guitar and drums.
Buried in the Snow
“Buried in the Snow” feels familiar to the East Coast. It’s a little more whimsical and melodic, but still hits those emo notes with cutting lyrics, pounding drums, and impressive guitar riffs.
This one feels built for headbanging, snowball fights, and running in the cold until your lungs feel like they’re on fire.
The Truth
“The Truth” keeps the pace going with a fun, defiant lift. It feels like a love song, but not really. More like young heartbreak and scraped knees.
It’s the tension between holding on and letting go, and getting lost somewhere in the bass. It’s about saying the hard thing out loud, even when your heart is pounding as hard as Bond on the drums.
I love the chanting and yelling on this one. It feels like a good time when everyone is singing together. For a second, you can sing along and feel like you’ve joined the party (or maybe you’ve been recruited into the rat army).
Stay
“Stay” comes in with warm bass. It feels sweeter and slightly lighter, but still has an edge.
The song pulls everything together: sentimental lyrics, vocals and chants moving as one, and breakdowns folded into the fantasy of it all. It has that basement-rat-emo feeling, with something sincere under all the noise.
I’ll Be Here
“I’ll Be Here” has a very rustic energy. The wind instruments help bring back that fantasy feeling. It’s clear that we’ve stepped into a very specific place inside the world of King Rat.
It pulls together details we’ve been picking up throughout the project and turns them into something sweeter and more intimate. With lyrics like “you cut your hair because it’s that time of year,” it feels personal like a handwritten note found tucked in the corner of a book.
Epilogue
“Epilogue” feels like a call back to “Out of Place,” but also to the project as a whole. It brings back the energy, the lyrics, the emotion, and the cleverness of the world they’ve built.
“One more song to figure out where I went wrong” works so well as an epilogue. It feels like getting closure that you asked for, but wanting more anyway.
It gets stuck in my head, sends a little groove to my toes, and makes me want to listen again.
Track 11
Thank you for reading this far. If you made it here, here’s a little secret as a treat: track 11 appears to be an acoustic or demo version of “I’ll Be Here.”
The love song comes back stripped down, a little closer to home. As we walk through the final door, we find our friend King Rat sitting at the piano, and we get to sit with him for a little while.
It feels like getting a quick look at the bones of the project before everything got dressed up so beautifully.
Final Note
What works about The Words That Cut Me is the world that King Rat builds without any compromise. The album is heavy, sentimental, whimsical, sharp, and strangely sweet. It hits familiar emo notes while remaining uniquely King Rat. Whether the audience is human or rat, or both, this project is carefully built to make you smile, dance, reflect, and headbang for a little while.
Long live the rat army.
Listen to King Rat on Apple Music, Bandcamp, Spotify.
