Style: Math rock, Alternative rock, Progressive rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Feed Me Jack, The Mars Volta, Closure in Moscow, Maximo Park
Country: Greece
Release date: 10 February 2026

---

In today’s world, we’re exposed to so much stimuli that most of us develop involuntary heuristics to deal with all the noise. Such mechanisms help us avoid getting bogged down in unnecessary detail, but also make many of our experiences shallow, our reasoning reductive. All this unconscious pigeon-holing into easily processable, predefined categories often leads us to misunderstand, misjudge, or miss out. Seriously, how many old favorite records do you have that you’d call a slow burner? And how many new ones are you burning slowly? Well, fret not, we music nerds are here to do that for you. So read on if you’re curious whether Sneaky Mustard offers up just a shiny pebble or a diamond in the rough with their sophomore record, This will explain everything.¹

Spinning up This will explain everything, you’ll be met with grungy riffing, catchy choruses, and the occasional jazzy bit to lend the album an air of sophistication. All these stylistic elements add up to a sound that could be described as progressive radio rock; a clear, inoffensive production helps to sell this impression. The mix is heavy on the mids, boasting crunchy guitars and a warm bass tone while finding a nice balance between the louder and calmer moments. But do Sneaky Mustard manage to give character to a style that’s known to deprioritize character for the sake of wider appeal? Thankfully, the accessible presentation delivers excellent performances, most notably in the rhythm section. Hope you know your fractions, because Sneaky Mustard earn the “math rock” moniker in spades.

Counting the measures can be a fun exercise, especially when you realize that the song is actually in 4/4; Sneaky Mustard are just screwing with ya ( “Aftermath”). Sometimes, the riffing crosses into djent territory (“Septum”), other times, the band go all in on the odd time signatures (“Scathel3ss”).² As a testament to the band’s skill, they manage to keep the intricate rhythms from feeling jarring; instead, most songs groove with a smooth fluidity, becoming downright danceable even. The vocals are performed with charismatic elegance and a hint of laid-back melancholia. Despite a few moments of vocal fry, the performance feels somewhat detached, and emotions remain rather implied than directly expressed. This will explain everything’s overall tone is classy and fun, kind of like Meshuggah for your parents, but the casual presentation can hide the music’s true depths from the shallow listener. Personally, I would have liked a little raw passion to really draw me in—but that might just be the metalhead in me talking.

Subtle songwriting is a double-edged sword, however: it’s easy to write off This will explain everything as an entertaining but ultimately uninteresting record after the first few listens. But give the tracks enough focus, and you’ll find that Sneaky Mustard are much more clever than they initially appear. The complexity of the album’s composition is genuinely impressive and provides a thoughtful musical representation of the band’s deeper meanings. A nice example of this synergy is the breakdown after the chorus of “Made of Clay”, which, to my understanding, describes the onset of a panic attack. The songs are mostly about dysfunctional people in (and out of) dysfunctional relationships. This lyrical darkness may contrast with the music’s usually upbeat sound, but don’t be fooled—tension is gently introduced by the convoluted nature of the underlying rhythmic landscape. In the opening “Full Thrust”, for instance, every other bar in the second verse is extended right when the singer tells about how he feels out of sync with himself during a hook-up. Consequently, listening to This will explain everything feels like talking to a really nice guy at a party who assures you that everything is fine, yet you can kinda see the desperation in his eyes, hear the wavering in his voice, and he gets way too drunk way too fast.

The only glaring weakness of This will explain everything is its lack of dynamism. While there’s plenty of variety in the details, each track feels like a variation on the same themes. This overarching self-similarity results in a fractal-like quality to the album: the math might be exciting to work out, sure, but the emerging shape loses its intrigue rapidly. There are no stand-out highs and lows, and most tracks follow the same formula with minimal deviations: a massive, syncopated opening riff, verse – sing-along chorus – verse – sing-along chorus, and some rhythmic tomfoolery in between to spice things up. Sneaky Mustard‘s approach to songwriting evokes comparison to the dad rock ventures of recent Soen releases.³ Cohesion is an important quality for any album, certainly, but in the case of This will explain everything, its dominance may hamper long-term engagement.

Sneaky Mustard almost snuck by me, and if I wasn’t tasked with making sense of This will explain everything, I might have let them. That would have been my loss, as this record rewards attention with many more layers than at first meets the … ear. True to their name, Sneaky Mustard did to their style just what a generous smear of Dijon under the ham does: smuggling complexity and a nice tang into an otherwise unimpressive-looking sandwich. But make no mistake, this sando is some serious gourmet shit. While a bit more heart and structural adventurousness could elevate the band even further, exploring This will explain everything is still a worthwhile endeavour, especially for those who like a little grit in their music but aren’t drawn to the excesses of metal.

---

Recommended tracks: Full Thrust, ScatheL3ss, This Will Explain Everything
You may also like: Our Oceans, Plantoid, Stereosity, Poly-Math
Final verdict: 7/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Independent

Sneaky Mustard is:
– Stamatis Spiropoulos (vocals)
– Manolis Messalas (drums)
– Nikos Georgakopoulos (guitar)
– Dimitris Konstantopoulos (bass)
With guests:
– Polyvios Athanasopoulos (keys)

1. No, it won’t. ↩︎
2. Also, reprising the jagged chorus in 4/4 at the end of “Scathel3ss” was a touch of genius. ↩︎
3. If only Soen remembered they’re supposed to be a prog band, and not Skillet for adults… ↩︎