Bringing Back Goth-Pop: Clyde Crooks Builds His Own World On New EP, ‘Hark’

Photo Credit: Korynn Washington
Clyde Crooks makes music that’s suited like Dorian Gray lost in Los Angeles, it’s a sound that evokes The Postal Service or Frou Frou wrapped in a distinctly contemporary 2026 melodic edge, but amidst it all, Crooks is carving out a lane entirely his own. Having spent time as a behind-the-scenes dream-weaver crafting production for artists like Nate Sib and Loukemann, Crooks is firmly stepping into the light as a singular artist to watch. Following his 2025 debut EP, let the red curtain down, and a string of visceral live support slots across the US, Crooks returns with his sophomore EP, Hark, a masterclass in emotional transgression and gothic pop.
What makes Hark so interesting to me isn’t just its polished, electro-pop framework; it’s the uncompromising weight of the subject matter itself. Crooks operates on a strict philosophy of musical durability: “If I keep coming back to an idea over the years, there’s probably something there.” Built on demos that have survived since high school, the EP is a meticulous sorting through grief, addiction, and small-town suffocation.
The project unfolds like a dark cinematic canvas. Focus single ‘Blocked’ sets a tense tone with a bloodshot bassline reminiscent of Block Party, acting as a close-quarters account of watching a friend navigate a near-fatal mental breakdown due to addiction. It’s a stark observation of modern dependency, framing the struggle not as self-destruction, but as a tragic victimhood to one’s devices.
Elsewhere, the EP weaves between contrasting emotional extremes. “1000” leans into raw, emo-indebted screams that call to mind My Chemical Romance, channeling the claustrophobia of a stifling hometown into an emotional bloodlet. Yet, underneath the post-hardcore catharsis, Cross’ pop sensibilities keep the hooks universal. Meanwhile, tracks like “Math” tackle the heaviest kind of grief, the loss of a best friend to suicide. Originally an excruciating, clinical account, the song evolved years later into a vivid electro-pop firework that forces you to want to dance and cry in equal measure. It’s a brave confrontation with silence, transforming haunting dream fragments into a comforting embrace.
Balancing the darkness is "Coldest Day of The Year", a reluctant love song that pairs the realization of true sobriety with the terrifying acceptance that vulnerability won’t kill you, through your coping mechanisms just might.
As the sole architect of his vision, handling everything from songwriting and production to lo-fi visual aesthetics built with favors from friends, Clyde Crooks isn’t just dropping a release; he’s inviting listeners into an entire, highly curated universe. Sustained by influences as wide-ranging as David Bowie, Kendrick Lamar, Stephen Sondheim, and SZA, Crooks delivers a project that is disarmingly sweet, fiercely gothic, and entirely evergreen.
Listen to 'Hark' below: