Photo by Edwina Hay

If the name Parlor Walls doesn’t ring a loud bell with you amidst the pile-on of algorithm indie slop, you may want to fix that. Born from the ashes of two of the Brooklyn underground’s 2010s scene staple post-punk bands in EULA and Shark?, co-founders Alyse Lamb and Chris Mulligan forged down a different, darker, and more harsher path in 2013 as a duo focalizing their art around a stranger form fusion of minimalist industrial electronic and noise. They have since built one of the most intriguing catalogs of albums and EPs that remain criminally overlooked beyond New York City limits.

Their new album, Big Crystal Dreams, pays no mind to any of the surrounding publicity noise of what else is going on around them regardless, and maybe even uses that vacuum of singularity advantageously as a superpower, as they’ve created one of the year’s best experimental releases thus far. For anyone who may just be toeing their way into Parlor Walls’ shadows, it’s a culmination that doubles as a perfect entry point which also allows access to work your way backwards in discovery. For those in the know, allow the duo to reintroduce themselves boldly under their own terms.

Both Alyse Lamb and Chris Mulligan took the time to share with +rcmndedlisten their story, and it’s a fascinating one that truly speaks to the spirit of what it is to be independent musicians in 2026. From what and who inspired their reset in sound, truly DIY-ing it after experiencing the industry of all things, and the state of modern day BK, Parlor Walls are a portrait of DIY survivalism — and the community that refuses to just wither away and die alongside with them.

+rl: Parlor Walls has been around now for over a decade. Broadly stated, you’ve been creating music steeped within a dark, DIY, experimental post-punk and industrial space. Big Crystal Dreams is your third full-length effort to date beyond plenty of extended plays in-between, and it’s leaps and bounds from where you began — more contextualized with vivid synths and guitars that bleed seamlessly into them. I hear the spellbound spirit of Broadcast within its minimalist synth work of a track like “Lost, Compared”, and plenty of evidence that your lifetime love of Nine Inch Nails’ may have been in mind in keeping violence close to the surface. What were the biggest influences — or means of chaos — behind what we’re hearing here?

Alyse Lamb:  Biggest influence for me was (is!) feeling anxiety over not knowing what the fuck is going on in this space we’re living in — feeling unmoored from reality on the daily. Basically, trying to process this instability and feeling unhinged by it. Musically, we were inspired to do a total reset and strip ourselves down to a pretty raw degree.

Chris Mulligan: For once, I just wanted to turn off the annoying part of my brain that wants to keep adding and tweaking and manipulating. We have been playing these songs for a couple years and there are wildly different versions of all of them. We decided to not overthink anything and let them just be whatever they are in this current moment. We recorded the demos in a week, and then recorded and mixed the album in a week. Everything reflects our instincts in that small moment in time. It was a real challenge to just let it be and let it breathe. I tried to stay out of my own way and have a good time recording at Machines With Magnets. Next one will probably be the complete opposite.

+rl: As you just mentioned, you worked with Seth Manchester over at Machines With Magnets in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, who has recorded alongside kindred bands like Model/Actriz, the Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter and Lingua Ignota, and The Body. What did that experience bring to Parlor Walls’ recordings that was different from previous efforts?

AL: This time around, we made demos of our songs and sent them over to Seth before our session. We wrote a little about what we wanted vibe-wise, and he instinctively knew what to do with us in the studio. It was very cool. We didn’t have to talk much — telepathy was at play. Seth was a mad genius on the controls. He was able to capture our wild dynamics and sweet subtleties in such a brilliant and deft way.

+rl: Big Crystal Dreams is as DIY as they come. Self-released. No PR campaigns pushing its album cycle. You didn’t even have any advance singles beyond releasing “Crocodiles”, “Arrow”, “Fantasy”, and “Perfect Friction” last year as double A-sides well before the album was even a thing. The first time listeners heard anything beyond that was on its release date, and the only known physical media attached to it were some cassettes sold at its release show. This is as bold and unconventional as it gets in the age of everyone having a publicist. Beyond resources, was there ever a moment you thought to do it any other way?

CM: When we started this band, we recorded an EP, made cassettes, hand painted the covers, and threw a release show at DIY spot Shea Stadium. Making something yourself and sharing it with friends will always be the most rewarding part of playing music. Next, we signed with a label and released our first full-length in a more conventional way with PR. They pressed vinyl and introduced us to a bigger audience. 

We were very grateful for this, but when it came time for the next album, they insisted we market ourselves as a couple in order to sell more. We hated this idea, which led to an all-hands on deck phone call trying to convince us it was the only way forward. It was a huge bummer to hear them say our art needs a better story. Fuck that. So they dropped us. That experience is a big reason why we don’t participate in conventional campaigns or put all our energy into signing with another label. 

For our new album, we decided to bring it back to how we started. Tapes with hand-drawn covers only available at the show. Sure, it’d be cool to play for 1,000 people instead of 100, but whatever. We are content and have our hands in several different art projects that we are beyond fulfilled.

+rl: I don’t live in a place that is remotely like Brooklyn, but I do remember a time in the 2010s where its DIY scene was naturally surfacing in music discovery without any of the above. How have you seen things change around you?

AL: Yes!  When I moved to Brooklyn in ‘09 there were tons of people throwing shows at really unconventional spaces, which I loved (delis, vacant lofts, record stores, laundry basements, dicey rooftops, etc). That shit has become few and far between. Venues have depleted, too. There used to be 30 dope places to play (miss you AVIV, Big Snow, Dead Herring, Palisades, Ft Useless, The Glove, Shea, DBA, list goes on…) Now, I can count them on one hand. There are still many amazing musicians, performance artists, and theater-makers creating great art here, but the spaces to perform are being smushed out. Thank you, insaaaaaaaane cost of living and gross landlords.  

+rl: Let’s look toward the summer — specifically August 8th at TV Eye where you have been given the honor of opening for one of your scene’s greatest experimental noise rock bands in the newly-reanimated Parts & Labor. That has to be confirmation enough regardless of streaming trends, algorithms, and social media engagement, your art is being acknowledged in the purest form. What does that mean to you?

AL: Yes, you nailed it — none of this has to do with trends, algorithms, or engagements. It’s all about community. We’ve been friends with Dan Friel for years and love each other’s bands. I think if you support each other and selflessly contribute to this beautiful scene, beautiful things will happen. We feel so honored and lucky to open for Parts & Labor. It’s gonna be a killer night.

Parlor Walls’ Big Crystal Dreams is available now on Famous Swords.