Camp Trash / Dowsing - An Embarassment of Riches EP

2025 • STORM CHASERS LTD. • EMO/PUNK

It’s been about a year since we heard from Camp Trash with the seemingly one-off single “Normal, IL” after their excellent 2022 debut album The Long Way, The Slow Way. But apparently, it was a sign of more to come. The Bradenton, Florida band makes no-frills guitar-forward rock music. Guitarist and Twitter legend Keegan Bradford and lead vocalist Bryan Gorman have been making music together since high school, which explains their tight and cohesive sound.

Dowsing, on the other hand, has consistently released new material in the past decade-plus beginning with their emo-revival 2012 debut album It’s Still Pretty Terrible. The Chicago quintet have bounced among styles from release to release, but their tracks on this split feel familiar. Per usual, the music is heart-on-sleeve, wry, and comforting. Their tracks on this split come from the sessions for their 2017 LP Sky Coffin. They didn’t make the cut for the album, but “deserved better,” according to the band.

Now the two bands have released a six-song split EP together on Stormchasers Ltd. (Pet Symmetry, Sincere Engineer, Taking Meds). The following is a breakdown of each track.

Camp Trash
“Go Bills”

The just-off-kilter pop-rock opener starts with a drumset falling over, before the vocals: “Something like a movie in the back of your head / playing on repeat / there’s no mention of you in the credits.” Soon thereafter: “The numbers won’t add up / no matter how you stack them,” and the pervasive sense is that nothing makes sense.

Speaking of not making sense: the Buffalo Bills being consistently good but not good enough, whether it’s the 1990s or the 2020s. While it may have been less painful to have never made it far to begin with, fans still shovel snow in Highmark Stadium, jump through tables, and good-naturedly taunt, “Fuck you, go Bills.”

Like Bills’ fans joie de vivre in the face of senseless disappointment, “Go Bills” doesn’t try to make any sense. It just has a good time with an endlessly hummable guitar pre-chorus. This is a feature of the song, which guitarist Keegan Bradford wrote alone on guitar before vocals were added.

The song goes out with, “I used to talk to God, but now I talk to my dog / and she talks to the big guy,” to which anyone who has sought the assistance of a higher being only to be ignored can relate.

“Detroiters Season 3”

Speaking of not making sense, how about the worthless value of capitalist-based rewards: “Double digit earnings in my quarterly report / been a good boy / been a good sport.” Bleak stuff. Substitute your own coping mechanism vice; as for Camp Trash, they “ate up all the vicodin.”

Once again, guitars will save us. The tone of the song shifts when the highlight of power-pop instrumentals kick in. The just-fuzzy-enough guitar solo whips up, and you’d be hard pressed to resist plucking along your own air guitar.

And, to bring us home, another spiritual theme: “Decoration or tradition / it’s not good enough / you’re in hell with me / I’m not in hell with you.” It’s sadistically far easier–and more fun–to bring others down to your level than to Sisyphean-ly try to meet others’ expectations.

“Normal, IL”

Camp Trash’s final song was released in summer 2024. It joins a long lineage of songs about love, the inability to buy or earn it, and the urge to try anyway.

We frequently mistake money for love, to our own deterioration. We fall for the trick over and over and over. “Nothing means as much as needing to / make sure daddy’s wealth stays relevant / Tell me who taught you love / must’ve gone out of business long ago.” When the money is gone, if the love is also gone, then the love was never there to begin with.

It’s a good thing Camp Trash’s tracks are so damn upbeat, because the lyrics–though realistic–are a bummer. Following the formula, “Normal, IL” bounces into a delightfully distorted soaring guitar solo bridge.

In the end, falling for the trap of buying love leaves those who are blessed with the real hanging: “My shooting stars all collect dust / the pattern of love and rust and lust.”

Dowsing
“Get Grounded”

“There’s a pep in my step that I haven’t had in years,” and we’re off! Dowsing has released music at a steady clip since 2012, but perhaps their hearts weren’t in it: “It came with a price tag / the joy was sucked out again.” This track sounds like a pronouncement that, Dani Rojas voice, emo is life.

Featuring Julia Steiner of Ratboys, “Get Grounded” comes from the Joyce Manor-perfected style of DIY-sounding rough edges polished juuust enough to attract those of us who aren’t sophisticated enough to appreciate musicality without production (raises hand). If you’ve missed early-2010s emo in 2025, here you go.

And, keeping with the theme of not making sense, Dowsing encourages us to embrace chaos: “To be even-keeled / partially healed / is a loser’s game / but we’re winning” Dowsing is triumphantly disinterested in forcing a round peg into a square hole.

“Pure”

If “Get Grounded” is the guy with the beautiful vista view in the meme, “Pure” is the guy with the obstructed rock wall view. Maybe some have been clamoring for a “return to form,” or opining that their older stuff is better.

Maybe Dowsing has heard that, and maybe they’re obliging, but conforming to others’ opinions requires chameleonic shapeshifting: “I promise / that I have changed / and just like that / I’ve been transformed / I cleaned the slate / I washed the back of my brain.”

But it’s unsustainable: “Can I maintain? / will I burn down?” It is nearly impossible to always resist the pull of others’ expectations, but it’s way easier to burn out by giving in.

“Somehow Awoke”

Clocking in at a marathonic 2:46, the longest song on the split over-analyzes relationship dynamics, which is is time-consuming. It’s not a beneficial process, but it’s alluring: “I know I can / make any situation impossible / where is it going / am I invited to come?”

But then, lightbulb: “The sun breaks through / the darkness in this room.” Dowsing is inviting us now. We’re all welcome into the clarity of a Eureka! moment. And, with layered vocals, a full yet raw sound, and a barely discernible key change, “Somehow Awoke” provides space and comfort.

Here, in this space, we can all relate on “constant change / that’s killing me / eternally / always losing those people I need.” Sudden realizations require coming to terms with a hard truth. Relational shifts are frequently out of our control: “I thought I could / it must be you / to believe a force so strong / could make a significant impact / I guess I had it all wrong.”

And yet, tomorrow, we’ll find we have “somehow awoke” in an inevitably new day.