Song Review: “Gutter” by Bucko
Heartbreak isn’t just unbearable–it’s chaotic, borderline sinister. We’ve all heard the familiar adage: “Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” But what that line from In Memoriam conveniently leaves out is that Alfred Tennyson was mourning the death of a close friend, not the sudden collapse of a romance. Keep that in mind next time you hear someone try to console a broken heart with words pulled from an elegy. That’s not to say love and loss don’t share the same emotional weight, but it’s curious how, centuries later, this line has become standard comfort for breakups rather than funerals, despite its original intention. Love is fleeting, but so is life. Why reserve such a blunt critique for infatuation while sparing it from grief? Perhaps it’s time to speak of both with the same measure of consolation and grace.
Both heartbreak and loss carry a lingering despair–the kind that ambushes without warning, unprovoked and unwelcome. The difference is that death brings a certain finality, where surprise moments are inevitably capped by time. Even though reminders may be constant, the likelihood of new firsts fades as the years pass. Heartbreak, however, lives on. As long as the other person exists, there’s always the risk of some new revelation, encounter, or passing reminder that can drag those feelings back to the surface… just as raw, sharp, and stinging as ever. Chaos, indeed.
On “Gutter,” the new single from Richmond band Bucko, this chaos finds an artistic form, recounting the mundane moments where despair quietly resurfaces, alongside the unruly lurch between rage and sorrow. It’s as if chaos upends the five stages of grief on an endless loop, forcing the mind to relive them in no particular order, again and again. Delicate in approach yet visceral in execution, the track encapsulates how platitudes of all sorts fail to remedy a broken heart, even the most famous one: “just give it time.” No matter how many years pass, a single faint memory can stop you in your tracks, erupting with the same passionate fervor that Bucko channels so powerfully here.
Like “Riding Mower,” the band’s late 2024 single, “Gutter” continues Bucko’s expert contrast of delicate emotion and raw expression, starting slow and introspective before swelling into a release that’s starkly different from where we began–yet entirely natural in its emotional trajectory. The gradual build mirrors the unpredictable waves of heartbreak itself, making the track’s final catharsis feel both inevitable and deeply earned.
“I’ve had conversations with your shadow,” Ava Coles gracefully sings over a push-and-pull guitar line, one that mirrors the tugging of heartstrings that heartbreak brings. She recounts faint observations and clever revelations before pleading with the empty space next to her in a repeated refrain: a mantra caught between yearning and surrender.
From there, the catalyst for this plea reveals itself in the mundane cruelty of modern heartbreak: the deletion of a shared playlist. What seems small becomes seismic, triggering a deluge of spiraling questions. Was it harmless? An accident? Spiteful? Or worse, a calculated attempt to provoke a reaction? It’s emotional ataxia distilled into a single, devastating line: “I have to quell these hopeful delusions in my aching haze.” The repeated plea from earlier shifts shape. Hopes of forgetting replace those of reconciliation before the next verse offers its most lyrically vivid moment: “I wish my memories went in the gutter with all the leaves and dirt / Then within a day they get swept away down the river.”
The ensuing chorus cycles through its dueling mantras–“I wanna be with you” and “I wanna forget you“–as the song’s structure mirrors the mind’s endless tug-of-war between longing and release. Finally, the patient grace that carried the track collapses under the weight of unbearable sorrow. The arrangement detonates into a cacophonous outro, with Coles’ voice soaring into a wail that feels less like performance and more like an uncontrollable purge–the sound of someone trying, and failing, to exorcise the memory of a person to fully move on.
Musically, Bucko is as sharp as ever on “Gutter,” capturing the disorienting haze of heartbreak while letting its more grounding elements–Coco Daley’s soothing cello, the steady rhythmic pace, and the undercurrent of restless guitars–carry the song’s emotional weight. What lingers most is the charm first captured on the band’s 2024 self-titled album, a record that felt far looser and more untamed than “Gutter” or “Riding Mower,” yet still anchored by Bucko’s innate vulnerability and dynamic sense of control. It’s that delicate balance, between restraint & release and tenderness & fury, that makes Bucko’s music cut so deep, leaving wounds that refuse to fully heal. Tennyson may have been mourning the death of a friend, but heartbreak like this can feel just as tragic, if not infinitely more chaotic, a truth Bucko captures with complete conviction here.
“Gutter” is out now on all streaming platforms. Catch Bucko in concert next on Tuesday, March 18th at Shockoe Sessions, hosted by The Auricular. Make sure to follow the band on social media so you can stay up-to-date on future shows, releases, and other news.
