There’s no algorithm-friendly filler on Word Gets Around. Under his longtime alias Longboat, the Seattle-based artist drops his 32nd album like a clenched fist on the table—a lean, wired commentary on a society fraying at the seams. It’s not just that Longboat makes music outside the mainstream; it’s that he’s actively building a new map altogether, one track at a time.
Longboat isn’t looking for beauty here. He’s sharpening edges, stripping away gloss, and choosing clarity over catharsis. Every track is dressed down: dry drums, raw vocals, the kind of lyrical precision that leaves no room for escape. It’s as if the entire album is allergic to metaphor.
The title track, “Word Gets Around,” is the album’s nerve center—a twitchy, paranoid, absolutely addictive cut that captures what it feels like to live under permanent surveillance, both digital and social. If this record had been made by a twentysomething signed to XL or Rough Trade, it’d already be hailed as a masterpiece. But Longboat isn’t here to play the industry game—he’s too busy making albums that matter.
And Word Gets Around is just one of eleven full-lengths Longboat plans to drop in 2025. That’s not a gimmick. It’s a strategy. He’s pushing a work ethic that shrugs off perfectionism and embraces precision. The songs are tightly coiled, often unnerving, and rarely more than three minutes long. They don’t wander. They demand.
Longboat knows exactly what he’s doing. And while most artists are still trying to land a playlist slot, he’s 500 songs deep into a universe that doesn’t care for market rules. Word Gets Around is bold, uncomfortable, and deeply satisfying. You won’t hear it in your local café, but you’ll carry it around for days.