This is Library Card

After forming in the summer of 2021, the Dutch four-piece Library Card became an entity transcribing the experiences of four highly different individuals. Their sound unfurls like an aerodynamic noise-punk tempest inside of an hourglass.

Library Card often evoke the anxiety of city life; high rise buildings are described like gravestones reflecting our black silhouettes back at us; the maddening maelstrom of "process, doubt and obsession" calcifying into a self-made sanctuary. But the band offers levity and reprieve at every corner with unexpected stylistic turns: within reversed yearnings of moments yet unlived, or imaginary drives where dreams and memories collude in tender astonishment.

Library Card wield this urgency to express with a wit and a warmth that's often absent in post-punk adjacent peers: Mitchell Quitz uses his guitars and effect pedals like a mad painter, Kat Kalkman's rumbling bass tethers a clockwork of contrasts, and Emre Karayalçin's skinwork surveys with limber, labyrinthine alertness; their instruments a potent runway for Lot van Teylingen's expressive wordplay. Within this pact, Library Card offer the full catalog of human experience: dizzying freedoms dressed as disenchanted sonnets, beaming victory laps with extinguished torches, useful limbos between paralysis and possibility.

The band's fresh probing of everyday problems has resonated steadily, with NME, Dork, Brooklyn Vegan, The Line of Best Fit, So Young, Rough Trade and BBC 6 Music (Iggy Pop) taking notice.