No, Durry’s sophmore album This Movie Sucks won’t soundtrack this years Superman reboot, it’s too busy chronicing the awkward, unheroic bits in between. But that’s what makes it brilliant…

Words & photo by Felix Bartlett (@bartlettfelix4) | Jne 27, 2025

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If life were a movie, Durry’s sophomore album This Movie Sucks would be the gritty, mid-budget indie sequel that ditches the feel-good montages for something far more compelling: the unvarnished truth. The Minneapolis sibling duo, Austin and Taryn Durry, aren’t here to sugarcoat the aftertaste of viral fame, the grind of dead-end jobs, or the existential dread of online toxicity. Instead, they’ve crafted a 12-track ode to disillusionment that’s as cathartic as it is chaotic, proving that sometimes the messiest stories hit the hardest.

The album opens with ‘Bully,’ a snarling, sarcastic takedown of internet trolls that feels like a caffeine-jittered wake-up call. “Greetings, people of the internet / It’s your friend from the real world,” Austin sneers over fuzzed-out guitars, weaponising the very anonymity that fuels online vitriol. It’s a middle finger wrapped in a hook, setting the tone for an album that refuses to play nice. That energy barrels into ‘Monopoly Money,’ a punk-fueled rant against wealth inequality where Austin’s exasperated vocals mirror the frustration of rolling dice in a rigged game. But just as the rage peaks, the title track pulls the emergency brake. “My life is a movie I don’t wanna watch / A homemade horror flick on VHS,” Austin confesses, swapping fury for fatigue in a moment of brutal self-awareness. It’s here that This Movie Sucks reveals its genius: Durry doesn’t just scream into the void, they dissect it with humor and heart.

The album’s middle stretch is a masterclass in tonal whiplash. ‘IDK I Just Work Here’ turns minimum-wage despair into a darkly comic anthem (“Maybe I’ll win the lottery / Buy myself a lobotomy”), while ‘Start a Band’ channels teenage delusion into a punk-rock pep talk. Then there’s ‘The Long Goodbye,’ a stripped-back acoustic gut-punch where the siblings harmonise about loss over fingerpicked guitars, proving their songwriting doesn’t need distortion to leave bruises. It’s this range, from frenetic to fragile, that makes the album feel alive, like flipping through a scrapbook of every emotion you’ve tried to suppress.

Producer Phil Odom (Code Orange, Say Anything) deserves credit for balancing Durry’s DIY rawness with studio polish, but the soul of This Movie Sucks lies in its lyrics. Whether skewering capitalism (‘Monopoly Money’), romanticising rebellion (‘Start a Band’), or staring down mortality (‘Good Grief’), the Durrys write like they’re scribbling in a diary they know you’ll read. Even the closer, ‘Slug Bug,’ morphs from a harmonica-laced folk tune into a rallying cry for generational empathy, ending the album on a note that’s hopeful without being naive.

No, This Movie Sucks won’t soundtrack this years Superman reboot, it’s too busy chronicing the awkward, unheroic bits in between. But that’s what makes it brilliant. In a world obsessed with curated perfection, Durry offers something rarer: a record that’s unafraid to be ugly, unfiltered, and undeniably human.

Verdict: 💀💀💀💀

For fans of: The Front Bottoms, early All-American Rejects, The Wrecks

This Movie Sucks is out now via Big Pip Records.