I recently listened to “2009” by Swiss Pleasure and it hit me in a way I wasn’t expecting. The song opens with this raw, almost jittery energy, and you instantly feel the tension underneath – like someone navigating how to feel invisible while trying not to show it. The vocals swing between harsh and vulnerable, carried by lead singer Alea’s restless voice, while the backing harmonies drift in like something dreamy but restless.
What kept me listening was the framing of the song’s subject: the narrator uses contempt as a shield against feeling left out. You sense the envy, the ambition to appear unbothered, to stand above the moment of being excluded, and in that you also feel the ache. The band recorded this in Berlin, building from a drum groove that kicks off the track, and layering guitars that wail just hard enough, and bass that locks everything together.
Listening felt like sitting up at 2 a.m., headphones on, watching the city lights from my bedroom window, wondering if I’m part of what’s happening out there or just a distant observer. The beat carries you forward but the lyrics pull you back, and that tug-of-war makes it more than your average indie song. The sense of “otherness” is real and palpable. The production isn’t over-polished; you get grit in the drums, bite in the guitar, and the voices aren’t smoothed into oblivion—they’re allowed to crack a little. That imperfection gives it character.
By the final chorus I was somewhere between wanting to yell along and wanting to hide. It lingers, the way the emotions don’t resolve neatly, and you end up replaying it because you feel the push and the pull and you’re curious about what you missed. If you’re into songs that speak softly but pack a punch, give “2009” a listen. And while you’re at it, follow Swiss Pleasure on social media and Spotify so you won’t miss whatever they release next.
