Gretel's Debut Album Squish Is Unfiltered, Instinctive and Unapologetic

Written by Elspeth Chapman

Photography via Gretel

There’s something quite unpolished about Squish, as if it’s still in the process of becoming. And that’s not a bad thing, but kind of the point. Where many artists’ debut albums arrive pre-packaged and ready for mass consumption, Gretel’s first full-length album instead feels like a documentation of development. On “Witch hunt”, in moments where her vocals sound scratchy and raw, she doesn’t smooth them into something polished; instead, she leaves them intact and unfiltered.

Part of that feeling comes from how the album was made. Reportedly written and recorded in a burst after earlier versions were scrapped, Squish has a looseness that can feel unpredictable, like each track could shift at any moment. “Squish” itself pivots suddenly from a steady, minimal song into full-band sections. These aren’t clean or predictable transitions, but feel more like emotional shifts captured in real time. Gretel leans into that, letting the songs remain rough around the edges instead of crafting something palatable for all.

Sonically, Squish draws on those familiar alt-rock sounds, grungy guitars, darker tones and atmosphere, but it never sticks in one place for long. At times, it feels like artists Wolf Alice or Coach Party. There are echoes of Wolf Alice in the quiet-loud dynamics that Gretel frequently shifts between. Much like Coach Party, there are many guitar-driven sections throughout the album. But it never feels like an imitation game. Where those artists tend to work within slightly cleaner sections, Gretel allows transitions to feel slightly more unresolved.

That feeling of emotional urgency sits right at the centre of the album. Lyrically, Gretel captures moments of personal frustration very well: “I lose the game of love each time I play it” in ‘Oh Well,’ framing love as something cyclical, messy and unstable. Even the title Squish hints at everything being pressed together: feelings, expectations, and a sense of self, creating something imperfect but still impactful. It’s less about making things clear and more about the pressure of it all building up with nowhere to go.

Tracks like “Unbloom” and “Maybelline” stand out as anchor points, where Gretel’s voice really breaks through the noise. Gretel has described “Unbloom” as being about facing heavy emotions head-on and letting yourself sit with them. It unfolds with a raw, immediate energy, building around grungy guitar tones and Gretel’s shadowed vocals.

If there’s a weakness on the album, it’s its looseness. Squish doesn’t always come together in a clear or straightforward way, which can make it feel hard to grasp at first listen. But that same quality also gives it an edge and appeal. It isn’t designed to be fully understood on first listen; it tells all slowly, listen after listen, in certain details that stick with you afterwards.

Overall, this is a debut that relies more on instinct than careful control, and it’s stronger because of that rawness and emotional honesty. Instead of polishing everything into a neat, finished sound, Gretel leaves in the rough edges and the uncertainty. A more controlled, precise approach might have made the songs sound cleaner and more polished, but it would also have taken away some of the tension and emotional impact that makes the record stand out.

Instead, Gretel delivers something more interesting than a typical debut: the sound of an artist still figuring things out as she goes. In that uncertainty, Squish finds its shape.