With a band name inspired by the Richard Powers quote “May the jaws of death have cotton teeth,” the debut record by Brooklyn duo Jaws of Death is, similarly, a plea for mercy. 

People I Won’t Ever See Again is a snapshot of the past, a tender but honest ode to formative years spent fucking up and fucking around. Lyrically, the album is a study in hindsight, both an effort to forgive the poor decisions and disappointments of youth and a love letter to the people, places, and mistakes that shaped us.

Bandmates Ethan and Clay spent the better part of a decade as touring musicians, traversing the country in vans and sleeping on couches. Memories of these years and the people who featured in them are scattered throughout the album, capturing the warring feelings of nostalgia, regret, and gratitude that surface in examining one’s past.

“I constantly find myself thinking about people from my past — ex-lovers, friends I’m not in contact with anymore, older versions of current friends, and even old versions of myself or periods of my life that are over for natural, healthy reasons,” explained Ethan. “I think it’s okay to miss the characteristics of people that drew you to them in the first place, but also know that there’s a reason they don’t have a place in your life anymore.”

For every tale that ends badly, there’s a joyous memory right before it. Lead single “Adderall” reminisces on a quiet night in with an old friend visiting town, highlighting the warm glow of close companionship. “This is icing on the cake and I could eat it with both hands, I’d rather stay home and ditch all my new friends.”  Eventually, the morning brings an inevitable comedown as the visitor heads home, leaving a trail of empty promises in their wake. “... You already left, and there go our big plans.”

Sonically, the band elevates an unvarnished acoustic foundation with shimmering, layered production to create songs that feel equal parts atmospheric and intimate. Twinkling synths float behind meandering guitar riffs, evoking the feeling of new awareness over old memories. Given the duo’s background in electronic pop music, this project was an opportunity to lean into something more organic, a paring back of musical artifice to reveal sturdy beams of emotion and melody.

“It took a conscious effort not to fall into familiar patterns of producing these songs,” said Ethan. “We’d produce them, then strip them back down to acoustic and decide if we still liked them with just the bare bones. We wanted the same color palette for most of the record, to create something where you can really sink in and be brought back to a person or a place and time.”