SPILL NEWS: CHICO DETOUR’S “I WANT IT” MUSIC VIDEO STOMPS ON THE GAS AND LET’S ‘ER RIP

CHICO DETOUR’S “I WANT IT” MUSIC VIDEO STOMPS ON THE GAS AND LET’S ‘ER RIP

DEN TAPES

“I Want It” is the opening track and centerpiece of Chico Detour’s new EP, Wash It Down, out now on Den Tapes. Built on relentless groove and insatiable need. The foot’s on the gas from beginning to end.

The accompanying video follows Seb through weathered stretches of unincorporated Seattle, wet pavement and neon reflections blurring into motion around him. Shot in quick cuts from dashboards, bumpers, sidewalks, and stoplights, it plays less like a narrative than a restless impulse. Familiar faces surface along the way, momentarily gathering around the same current before being pulled back into the city’s motion. Gray skies, muscle cars, brick Volvos, and a reckless streak pass through the frame before disappearing again. Like the song itself, the video keeps stirring- equal parts craving, delusion, and nerve.

The record comes on already in motion, spring-soaked guitars cutting through tight, deliberate grooves, voices drifting in and out like signals picked up late at night. Chico Detour treats late-’50s and early-’60s garage and psychedelia less as revival than as living material: rhythm held firm, melody allowed to warp, tension left unresolved on purpose. These songs don’t announce themselves or chase release; they circle, repeat, and clarify, drawing the listener deeper with each pass. There’s surf in the reverb, pop in the harmony, and something stranger underneath—an alertness, a sense of recognition, the feeling that this music existed before you found it. Wash It Down defines Chico Detour’s world and asks you to stay a while.

The band came together the way these things usually do. Sebastian Felipé had the songs, but the band took shape through recognition: Michelle finding the voice inside the noise, Brennan locking into the low end as it had always been his place, Christopher stepping in as a kind of compass drawn to grit, spark, and the physical pull of garage rhythm, and Jacob grounding it all with a drummer’s sense of inevitability. They grew out of the same Seattle after-hours circuit house shows, borrowed gear, rooms that rang too loud, and carried with them a refusal to smooth anything over. Nothing here feels assembled for effect. More discovered and then kept.

Wash It Down opens with “I Want It,” a charged and unsmiling statement that defines the record from the first moments. Built on repetition and performance rather than atmosphere, the track gives up very little as it presses forward, voice and groove tightening the frame and turning wanting into something blunt and physical. Nothing softens the impact. There’s no invitation to settle in, only pressure held steady, eye contact maintained. It doesn’t feel like an introduction so much as a confrontation, making clear what’s at stake immediately and without ornament: A Need.

As a record, Wash It Down unfolds more like a sequence of states than a collection of singles. “Corrido Note” draws from the fatal loop of the corrido tradition, tracing how stories meant to be sung don’t end; they circle back, turning the singer into the song quietly echoing the shadow of Chalino Sánchez, where voice, risk, and consequence collapse into one.”Soft Eyes” drifts through altered perception and moral slippage, its hazed melodies and warped ending capturing the sensation of moving forward while quietly losing your grip.

At the midpoint, “Crying at My Party” turns inward without stopping the body from moving, an instrumental that carries emotion through motion rather than confession. The guitar speaks where words don’t, pressing forward with contained urgency, as if recognition itself were the release. “Christo’s Ghost” tightens the focus again, built around a groove that refuses to loosen, melody threading through it like a thought you can’t shake. There’s confidence in its restraint, a commitment to the pocket rather than escape from it.

The record closes with “Snake Pit,” and the temperature changes. The song doesn’t chase climax or clarity; it holds position. Repetition becomes ritual. Harmony frames tension instead of dissolving it. The body’s response is alertness rather than adrenaline, the feeling of seeing clearly and staying still once you know where you are. When the final refrain lifts without settling, it doesn’t feel like an ending so much as an opening left ajar, an invitation that doesn’t explain itself.

Released via Den Tapes, a Seattle-based cassette label rooted in the local underground, Wash It Down arrives without spectacle. It doesn’t posture or plead its case. The record trusts its material’s groove, tone, repetition, and voice that lets them do their work over time. Nothing here asks for interpretation. The songs are shapes, moving through a familiar room slightly out of phase, knocking into each other, jolting, and continuing on.

Tour Dates

6/04 – Seattle WA @ Sonic Boom Records
6/10 – Yakima WA @ Bearded Monkey w/ Messer Chups + 3LH
6/19 – Seattle WA @ Belltown Yacht Club w/ Friends Friends + special guests
7/10 & 11 – Seattle WA @ West Seattle Music Festival
8/01 to 8/15 – West Coast Tour

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