Leftovers

"IT MAY BE THAT EVERYTHING ENDS" is the title of the new and third album by the Viennese band Leftovers, known for their over-the-top madness. It's a fitting title that certainly does not apply to the band itself, which has matured in the best possible way with this album—while still burning brightly. Author Eric Pfeil recently wrote a heartfelt tribute to the romantic idea of a band as a gang of friends in a column for "Rolling Stone." According to Pfeil, a rock band is a "breeding ground for mischief" with "flickering ambitions," and starting one counts "among the most meaningful endeavors for young people."

Perhaps Eric Pfeil was thinking of the Viennese band Leftovers when he penned this passionate appeal. For three albums now, Leftovers have been celebrating what it means to shake up the world with friends in an electrifying manner. The new album, "IT MAY BE THAT EVERYTHING ENDS," released on October 11, 2024, is more than ever the 'everyone-does-everything album' of this band—and thus the most collaborative Leftovers music to date. All four members have written lyrics, sung, and everything blends together and amplifies each other. Often, you can't tell who is singing or doing whatever, but that doesn't matter: Everything on this astonishingly stunning album is Leftovers.

What might not be so surprising, yet is by no means a given, is that Anna Grob, Leon Eder, Leonid Sushonund, and Alex Waismayer—whose names we will write out just this once before we refer to them again as Anna, Leon, Leonid, and Alex—are indeed four very different individuals. They naturally feel, perceive, dream, and yes, are different. But that's exactly the point! Their differences make Leftovers not only greater than the sum of its parts but unbeatable. "We worked for the songs, not for our egos," says Alex.

On "TIRED," Leftovers sang in 2023 about chronic overwhelm, panic attacks, toxic relationships, and other adolescent disasters; now they have taken another step forward. "IT MAY BE THAT EVERYTHING ENDS" is about the power of community, about uplifting each other in dark times, about the longing for love and the absence of it. During the production, separations occurred, new bonds formed, and others stabilized—all against the backdrop of the major global crises.

Initially, the band didn't want to record a new album this year at all. Not again! After countless concerts and two albums in as many years, they wanted to take things a bit easier. Maybe release one or two EPs, perhaps drop a song here and there, just put out what was finished. But things turned out quite differently: "We talked to colleagues, and they said, 'Real bands make albums, not EPs,'" says drummer Leon, "and we adopted that mindset."

The music still feels like a catharsis, is chronically over-the-top, and can be noisy to the point of pain. The lyrics fluctuate between functional poetry, DADA, and punk, making them as immediate as the music. So far, so Leftovers. However, you can also hear that the band has worked more thoroughly on these rich, profound pieces than ever before. "The expectations for our own music have grown," confirms Leon. It fits that Leftovers engaged in a truly collaborative effort for the first time with not one but two producers (Georg Gabler, Sven Regener).

Leftovers have grown up. In the best and most mature way possible. "It may be that everything ends"? Sure, at any time. But for the group Leftovers from Vienna, it's just getting started.