“Wake Up Call” doesn’t arrive gently, it moves like a current that looks calm on the surface and pulls hard underneath. This single by EYBAND draws from the velocity and grit of 90s skate punk, but its urgency is unmistakably present-day, shaped by exhaustion, moral fatigue, and the uneasy quiet of looking away.
The track is built on speed and repetition, guitars circling restlessly while the vocals cut through with insistence rather than melodrama. There’s no ornamental polish here. Recorded and mixed entirely in a bedroom, the sound stays rough by choice, as if smoothing it out would dilute the point. You can hear the closeness of the space, the immediacy of voices and strings pressed up against the walls. It feels lived-in, not curated.
The song keeps returning to the same refrain, and each repetition lands heavier than the last. “Ignorance and apathy is bliss” is delivered not as a celebration, but as an indictment: comfort mistaken for calm, stillness confused with innocence. The opening lines drift almost deceptively: “Another gentle tide / No guilt in our minds,” before the imagery darkens into something harder to ignore. When the chorus hits, “Bodies floating to the shore,” there’s no metaphor to hide behind. The song names what’s happening plainly, then asks why it no longer shocks us.
What gives “Wake Up Call” its bite is the evident tension between softness and collapse. Phrases like “In restfulness we dwell” and “A small breeze on our hill” brush up against the recurring warning that we’ve been “blindfolded for far too long.” The final repetitions push it further, ending on the stark admission: “The end of all humanity.”
EYBAND’s “Wake Up Call” isn’t punk as nostalgia or rebellion-for-show. It’s punk as insistence; a refusal to let comfort pass for peace, or silence pass for innocence. The song doesn’t offer solutions. It simply keeps knocking, louder each time, until ignoring it becomes impossible..
