A while back, I wrote about calirbourne practice, that sprawling, distorted daydream from Julie that left me equal parts disoriented and obsessed. That track pulled me into Julie’s world muddy, raw, oddly melodic, and I haven’t really come out since. So it only felt right to return and talk about knob, the other side of the same storm. If calirbourne practicewas the spark, knob is the fire that follows. And it burns slow, loud, and with intention.
There’s something undeniably physical about this track. Listening to knob feels like standing in front of an amp that’s just a little too loud, but you need it that way because you’re chasing that exact kind of overload. It opens with that signature Julie sound, heavily distorted guitars, almost lo-fi in texture but never sloppy. There’s a weight behind it, like they’ve figured out how to weaponize fuzz. It’s sludgy and unrelenting, but there’s precision hiding beneath all that noise. That’s what keeps me coming back to their sound: the chaos is always controlled.
Compared to clairbourne practice, which felt like an anxious dream unraveling, knob is more grounded, but not in any way that makes it easier to hold. It hits heavier, more direct, like a brick through a stained glass window. There’s less hesitation here. The vocals are still tucked beneath layers of static, but they cut through just enough to haunt you. They’re not trying to be heard clearly. They’re trying to be felt, like a voice in your chest rather than your ears.
What really stands out to me on knob is how Julie plays with tension. The song flirts with structure but never quite settles. It builds and releases in ways that feel unpredictable, but never aimless. There are moments when you expect it to break, to crash into some traditional catharsis, but instead, they hold back, and that restraint is what gives it so much emotional force. When they do let go, it’s like the floor falls out from under you.
It’s clear to me that Julie understands their instruments not just as tools, but as textures. Everything is a feeling, guitar tones that sound like melted metal, drums that land like punches in a dream, bass that rumbles like distant thunder you swear you can feel in your spine. Even silence becomes a tool. The brief pauses between the sonic wreckage only make the noise hit harder when it returns.
Where calirbourne practice invited me to drift, knob grabs me by the collar and forces me to sit with the discomfort. It’s not the kind of track I throw on casually. It demands attention. It reminds me that music doesn’t always have to be clean or palatable to be beautiful. Sometimes the ugliness is the beauty. And Julie knows this better than most.
There’s something special about bands like this, ones that don’t hand you meaning on a silver platter. They make you work for it. They make you feel for it. Julie’s music isn’t interested in being liked, it’s interested in being remembered. And that’s why I’m still thinking about knob days after it ends. It lingers in that way only the most emotionally honest art does.
If you’ve already heard “clairbourne practice” and thought, “What even was that, and why do I want to hear it again?”, then knob is your next step deeper into the haze. Let it shake something loose. Let it be loud. Let it be messy. Let it be what it is, another jagged, beautiful puzzle piece in the strange and powerful world Julie is building.
Below is a cover I made of the song knob by Julie. I like to try to learn some of my favorite songs. This song wasn’t too hard to learn to be honest and I do enjoy it a lot. I messed up a little on some of the parts but I think I did a pretty good job considering I’m still fairly new at playing the guitar.
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