Indie rock guitarist and songwriter Jake Vera brings uniquely moving vocals and sentiments to the scene, with the intimate to explosive, all-consuming new album Lost.
From acoustic beginnings we’re Welcomed into a nostalgic and organic guitar tone and ambiance, a thoughtful, melancholic mood, which seamlessly evolves into the story and feelings of the alternative and engaging Wasteland. Jake Vera has arranged the songs of Lost in a way that feels conceptually rooted, purposeful, and almost movie-like in its sense of movement and change.
Haunted is a personal favourite from this album, something about the perfect fusion of distorted, evocative fullness, and the fluidity and quiet passion of the voice, the melody, the vulnerability. It’s a grunge-like earworm of emotional impact, akin to the likes of Seether in my view, only with a softer, more ambient, alternative production, and the writing is breathtakingly personal, and delivered in a genuine and captivating way.
After this, Burn raises the energy, the tempo and desperation, with long-form verse expressions all resolving well amidst a familiar and metaphorical hook. The guitar sound and voice are firmly rooted now, in the extensive and welcoming humanity and heart of Lost.
As the emo rock riffs and whispers of Resentment fall into view, the guitar tone and voice again pair beautifully, for something haunting, intriguing, and keen to connect. Contrast is masterfully utilised, so the quiet moments enthral, while the subsequent distorted and passionate drops hit with euphoric and heart-breaking impact. Always this concept of being Lost, the fear and uncertainty, the searching, remains as the beating heart of the music – even with such melodic and performative diversity along the way.
Consider Inside, a mellow piano-led alt-rock track, with echoes of influence from new metal and alt-rock’s past, but still its own sense of lingering intimacy and emotion, in the falsetto, the simplicity, the questions.
‘I feel my soul taking flight’ later pours through the airways, as the unique drum-line and unresolved vocal outcry of Time adds something uneasy and aching to the mix. Then for Divide, a perfectly placed acoustic guitar – the crisp recording of the strum, the descending melody, and the poetic musings directly addressing a significant other; or perhaps even the self. The distorted drop leans towards Zombie by the Cranberries a little, a simple rise and fall that’s emotive and poignant. Another personal favourite.
Collapse again presents acoustic guitar for a fireside moment, and the quietness and realism of the voice, the added layers of finger-picking, all helps build a gentle intensity that’s gripping; increasingly so as we fall deeper into the distortion and passionate energy of the song’s peak.
To finish, Forsaken is powerful, haunting and memorable – an evocative highlight that’s mysterious, almost prayer-like in its intrigue and depth. The acoustic guitar, the vocal minimalism, the contrast, works beautifully here, and again that sense of balancing optimism and lostness is mighty – new life impending, a lasting change, an irreversible and inescapable force.
The artistic escapism is fiercely focused here, the poetry beautiful, and the sound so unusual and unique, that it wraps up the Lost album in a spellbinding way.
Great vocals and songwriting, a clear sense of identity as a modern artist – Jake Vera has a sound that feels authentic, and his reasons for making music ring loudly; to find answers, to feel, to connect – not simply to win attention. The music is moving, nostalgic but also fresh amidst the current waves of AI-generated electro-slop. It’s a fine album, in short, enchanting and beautiful, with sadness and hope scattered carefully throughout. An hypnotic place to disappear for a while.
Find Jake Vera on Instagram, Facebook.
