“Circles” is the first single and the first song on Scott Evil‘s debut record. It’s flawless indie-rock. Swirling guitars, an ultra-tight rhythm section, and clear, melodic lead vocals that are easy to grab onto. In another era, “Circles” would have been an almost certain college radio hit, along the lines of (Canadian examples, sorry) Sloan or The Doughboys. As a long-ago fan of both of those bands, Scott Evil sounded like a band I forgot I loved.
The Cologne band’s first full-length, Big Dipper, sports a lot of the charm of “Circles” across its 11 tracks. I’m not sure what their main influences were, but I’m sure we would have a lot of similar 90s and early 00s touchpoints. For a band named after a famous Austin Powers villain, it’s ironic that Scott Evil themselves keep things strictly on a first-name basis: Farina sings, Till and Rene play guitars, Phillipp is the drummer, and either Tibor (studio) or Julia (live) plays bass. Full names are for supervillains, not indie bands, it seems.
Formed in 2018, Scott Evil has been quietly building their sound since 2020, releasing a string of EPs that hinted at what was coming: danceable indie rock, rich with dreamy melodies and lush, complex instrumentation, all underpinned by a rhythm section that’s as propulsive as it is precise. Big Dipper is the sound of a band that’s grown up together, and the seven years of woodshedding come through in the details.
“Pizzazz” might be the sharpest example. It’s lean and tightly wound, built on a punchy beat and a swirling, feedback-affected riff. The song is catchy, and Farina’s vocal line winds its way through references to mixtapes and Black Flag. It’s all delivered with enough charm to avoid the trap of nostalgia-for-nostalgia’s sake. The past is there, but the pulse is very much current.
The rest of the album circles around themes of memory, anxiety, and control. “Barbed Wire” pushes Farina’s voice to the edge as she sings, “I feel like / I’ve lost control”. A few tracks later on the grungy “St94” channels a memory of the insecurities and anxiety of being young:
Unknown thoughts of forgotten years
Felt cute but should have been stronger
Blurry filters all over me
Made me feel like I am a no one
Cut up tights and a summer breeze
But I think my heart was broken
Compared to their earlier releases, Big Dipper feels like a statement. The songwriting is sharper, the performances more locked-in, the production lush without smothering the songs. Every instrument has room to breathe, and the small flourishes—layered backing vocals, tremolo trails, keyboard drones—add texture rather than clutter.
This is a record that takes its time to dig its claws in. It’s mature, but never jaded; nostalgic, but never stuck in the past. Scott Evil have made an album that feels both instantly familiar and quietly surprising, full of songs that would fit on a mixtape, if I still made those today.
“Daughter of the Sun” ends Big Dipper on an introspective note, beginning with little more than acoustic guitar and voice, then building layers of harmony, keyboards percussion into a chaotic, cathartic full-band crescendo. It’s the album’s most ambitious moment and it lands because the band doesn’t rush it. The structure is patient and the payoff earned.
What’s most striking is how unforced Big Dipper sounds. Scott Evil isn’t trying to recreate an era or chase a trend. They’re building from the inside out: confident, detailed, and careful with its pacing. It’s a debut that’s been seven years in the making, and the effort and polish come through: The songs stick around, the corners are sharp, and the band sounds like they’re just getting started.
