Potionseller 'BUZZARD' LP

Pop-punk’s target practice is recklessly one-way, spraying whoever deserves the smoke. BUZZARD, the debut full-length from Potionseller, chooses not to be so quick with the draw. After years of spitfire alt-rock, the Grand Rapids quintet slows down and stretches out. 

What should feel like a shame spiral shared by boozers and losers turns out to be more gracious—wry, sage advice via hooky anecdotes. “It’s named after something my dad always said: don’t be a buzzard,” vocalist Austen Reno explains, “but the record is about being a buzzard.” 

Buzzard behavior is for all seasons: spring’s whistles of new beginnings (opener “Time Travel”), summer’s Road Trip 2025 playlist (“Sharkbait”), autumn’s browning ugliness (“Eureka!”), and yes, those classic Michigan winters (closer “Fear,” featuring Austen’s sibling Jayson). 

Before you battle with this bird, traveler, take note. Banjo hasn’t been in the genre for decades, at least not around the church basement, so they do that now. For a band that’s tinkered with everything from ska-punk horns to fizzy synths since forming, such a choice might not come as a surprise, and neither should the record’s edge. Narrators relish biting the curb alongside lashing guitars on “Sniper Rifle,” leave any positive progress behind to fester inside the churning post-hardcore of “The Dummy,” and binge drink into oblivion on “Crashout.” Listeners looking for reprieve from this reflection can find it in “Irish Exit,” a track that flips the classic fantasy of running away into a dizzying display of homesickness and aimlessness. Distraction and thirty-something despondency brims with arena-rock swagger, becoming the LP’s biggest, brightest spot before collapsing into its coda, piano and strings peering out under the glare. 

Buzzards past, present, and future: presenting your new straight shooter.