Review: Floor Space’s Ruthless New Album “Maybe This Is It”

Celebratory cake with guitar and Maybe This Is It banner. Cover art for Floor Space album.

Pop-punk band Floor Space released their most recent third studio album, Maybe This Is It, on Friday, October 20th, 2023.

The album is a slightly longer follow-up from their previous album, Nothing Makes Sense, released on July 17th, 2022. The band released the first single from their new album, “Easier,” on March 31st, 2023, which the band announced the release of the same day on social media. Leading up to the announcement of Maybe This Is It, the band would release a third and final single from the album, “Self-Destruct,” which they released on September 22nd, after announcing the release of the single on social media on September 18th. The final single, “Self-Destruct,” has become one of the most popular songs on the album by quickly collecting 7,145 plays on Spotify between its release and November 17th, 2023, which can be attributed to its infectious instrumental, catchy chorus and overall relatable self-reflective lyrics. On October 2nd, 2023, the band would announce the release date for Maybe This Is It on their social media platforms.

Maybe This Is It is an authentic, unapologetically honest pop-punk album filled with aggressiveness and vulnerability delivered with catchy lyrics and electrifying instrumentals. It harnesses many elements of the 2000s emo pop-punk era while serving it in a modern twist. With grindingly groovy guitars, explosive instrumental transitions, and edgy yet intimate lyrics, Maybe This Is It quickly gives you the nostalgia of heading to school and listening to your favorite pop-punk and emo bands on repeat while riding the bus. All while rocking a well-loved pair of Converse sneakers, skinny jeans, a band shirt, and the eyeliner that took you over twenty minutes to do because you were afraid of poking yourself in the eye while doing your waterline.

The album wastes no time introducing you to the hard-hitting, relentlessly fierce sound and atmosphere of the album with the song “Spine.” The music starts with a consistently powerful yet grounded guitar riff and the sparse, exclamative pounding sound of drum hits to rev up the track, detonating the first full-force instrumental eruption of vitalizing dynamic sound. The guitar switches back to the beginning riff in the first verse with the added support from sporadic deep-rooted sounding bass and a fluidly progressive drum beat. Matched with bold, exasperated vocals, confidently delivering the blunt, pitiless lyrics,

“Well, I guess you want money, ’cause I don’t got that honey / I think you need a reality check instead of a real one / It’s funny / Yeah, you’re alone in this …

The instrumental pumps extra energy into itself before seamlessly transitioning into the chorus. Transitioning into the chorus, a varied electrically-charged feverish instrumental paired with dominant relentless vocals. Especially as the venom-filled lyrics are forcefully delivered at the end of the hook, “Well, I wish that you had spine / Well, I wish that you had spine / Well, I wish that you had spine!” shortly following the end of the chorus, the song strays away with an independent bouncy change in the instrumental reverting to the vibrant, polarizing bursting instrumental climax from the beginning. It takes charge, leading the song into the second verse. Not much changes in the second verse. The prominent, flashy chug sound of the guitar in the first verse is replaced by the more ever-present bone-rattling sound of bass following the same guitar melody from the first verse. 

Following the second chorus, the song wraps up with the prolonged vigorous instrumental and defiantly, adamant repetitive shouting of the lyrics, “I wish that you had spine.” Overall, “Spine” is an authentically catchy introduction to the razor-sharp, invigoratingly punchy elements sprinkled throughout the album.

The next song on the album is “Replay Buttons.” While the song loses a bit of the brutality sonically from the previous song, it changes its tone into a display of mellow, raw, self-reflective emotions. The song starts with a simple melancholy guitar melody and incomprehensible, slightly distorted voices in the background. The background speech sounds like the slight alteration you would hear during a phone call or a voicemail. 

The first verse has the same guitar melody that carries through, with sincere vocals joining the fray as they deliver the introspective lyrics in the verse. As the first verse nears the end, the instrumental gracefully builds up in intensity with the introduction of progressively intensifying drums and the introduction of the hearty foundations of the rhythm guitar before transitioning into the lively, infectious chorus. With a cohesive, illuminatingly refreshing instrumental. The chorus lyrically harnesses the feelings of nonchalant self-deprecation and acceptance with the lyrics,

“Call me a wreck / Call me a liar / Call me unemployed sitting by a fake fire / It’s a shame we don’t get any replay buttons….”

Lyrically, the chorus embraces the fear of what some may define as “failure” under the scrutiny of others. While also sarcastically enforcing the mindset of being content with the choices we make that lead us to where we are, whether that be “success” or “failure.” All while melodically, the chorus will easily, unforgettably cement itself in your brain for hours at a time. 

Heading into the second verse, the instrumental continues going tenaciously full-throttle with its stimulatingly high-voltage pace and sound. It isn’t until about halfway through the first verse that the guitar takes a shift into a more steady, commandingly assertive melody with periodic interjective bursts of fervent flair driving the song back into the chorus. At the end of the second chorus, the instrumental takes a well-worth-it detour by spotlighting a tizzy of primarily flamboyant guitar strums, with support from reliable, pure, tepid drums and the vibrant periodic complementary pops of the secondary guitar going into a bodacious segment of the instrumental highlighted by a glitzy emphatic guitar solo. 

Following the final chorus, the song whisks itself back to the satisfyingly magnetizing instrumental segment that followed the second chorus before approaching an emphatic end. While “Replay Buttons” loses some of the harsh grittiness thematically and sonically, it harnesses an energizingly intriguing sound with a fitting tone and pace progression.

Overall, the beginning of the album introduces you quickly to the deep, rapid, invigorating sounds found throughout the album.

Songs like “Aren’t You Sick?” are placed a little bit further than halfway through the album, reinforcing the consistency of the overall vibe. While the song isn’t as boisterous or ambitious as some of its counterparts in the album’s first half, it keeps the album from becoming stagnant. While leaving you with no doubt in your mind, it’s a rejuvenating, modern-day pop-punk album. It adheres to their what is by now familiar signature, escalating suave instrumental build-up style that’s ever-present throughout the album. While maintaining a bit more reserved sound, the song is in no way mundane. If anything, it allows a refreshment of the pace of the album while still harnessing the infectious chorus melodies and escalating vivid pinnacle of the instrumental in the chorus you’ll find throughout Maybe This Is It.

The album wraps up in a potently gallant manner. The final two songs closing out the album are “Self-Destruct” and “Glass Dreams.”

“Self-Destruct” comprises of a dense-sounding bass and a bobbing clean light drum beat in the first verse. A chorus filled with keenly riveting guitar riffs and hypnotizingly irresistible to sing-along to chorus melodies. A tantalizing post-chorus lead guitar riff switch-up paired with a consistent, substantially alluring rhythm guitar riff. And an enthrallingly provocative guitar solo riff to amp you up as the song erupts with the final catalyst comprised of upbeat, infectious melodies and exhilarating, hard-hitting energy before the song ends. “Self-Destruct” embodies and summarizes all the elements you’ve heard throughout the album into a single piece that’ll leave a lasting impression on you for days, weeks, or months to come.

Closing out the album is “Glass Dreams.” The song possesses a more somber start and overall theme as the song starts with the melancholy pre-chorus, which you’ll be reacquainted with after the second verse, paired with the sound of a haunting guitar melody that will leave you suspended in silence before breathing life back into you going into the first verse by transitioning into a rejuvenating riff with rapid full-throttle drums. The song’s lyrical theme signifies the risks we sometimes take to chase zealous dreams we’re passionate about. Still, in return, we can face bleak roadblocks in our paths, personally and literally, which strain our friendships and relationships. We don’t realize any of it until we’ve hit a wall and have to swallow our pride so we can ask for help and mend connections with others we muddied when we were blinded by overdetermination and stubbornness with lyrics throughout the pre-chorus, first verse, and chorus like,

“Vivid and a bloody mess / And I blamed it all on my Klonopin.” And “The bills are upping / The Dopamine is slowly loading / But we’re in a stage of just not talking…” And the chorus, “I’m shitty at admitting when I am wrong…”

The self-confessing honest lyrics and overall theme of the song, paired with the peppery, high-spirited instrumental sound, wraps up the bouncing enthusiastic album filled with raw emotion.

Overall, Maybe This Is It is a mesmerizingly refreshing modern-day pop-punk album. It has robustly titillating guitar melodies, lusciously captivating guitar solos, unforgettable vitalizing choruses, and grim, heartfelt lyrics. The album will take you a blast-to-the-past but with a modern-day zesty twist.

Listen to Floor Space’s Maybe This Is It HERE.

0 0 votes
Article Rating
Notify of
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Would love your thoughts, please comment.x