A Rare No-Skip Listen: SpaceAcre's Life's a Bitch Mixtape

If the first entry in this blog was about an old friend, this one's about a new discovery — and one that's earned a genuinely rare title in my collection: a no-skip listen. I have very few of those. This is one of them.

Life's a Bitch Mixtape is a refreshing antidote to the mainstream — a world away from the Taylor Swifts and Harry Styles of the charts. I liked it enough on CD (a limited CDr pressing) that I've also got signed translucent red and translucent smoky turquoise vinyl on order.. When something earns a place on the shelf twice, in two different formats, that tells you something.

An album of two halves

The Life’s a Bitch Mixtape isn’t an album in the truest sense of the word, but a collection of the band’s recordings, and it gives an insight into what the band is capable of, from the alternative rock leanings of ‘That Girl’ to the contemplative ‘Landslides’.

But the more time I spend with this record, the more it reveals itself as two distinct records stitched into one. The first half is narrative-driven — songs that tell you something, that move forward. The second half feels different at first pass: less like storytelling and more like the execution of a sonic concept, an atmosphere being built and sustained. And the longer I spend there, the more I think the second half is telling its own story too — just a quieter, more interior one. And at the centre of that tale sits a genuine trilogy.

That soft-to-loud dynamic running through it is deeply familiar — as a child of the 90s, it's practically wired into me. But SpaceAcre don't lean on it as a gimmick; it's doing real work here.

The trilogy

If there's a spine to the second half — the centrepiece of its story — it's three tracks that read almost like a three-act arc:

The cello opening of “I Thought You'd Never Ask” starts it off gothic — dry, close-mic'd, something in the Rasputina lineage but without the reverb Rasputina usually drown things in. There's a touch of Vanessa-Mae's showier technicality in there too, for such a short passage.

“So I'll Run On” is where it turns genuinely dark, and the crossfade between the two tracks is seamless — magical, even. There's a Celtic Gothic eeriness to it — you could drop thunder and lightning sound effects into this track and they wouldn't feel remotely out of place. It's a tormented piece, and it doesn't pretend otherwise.

“Way Over” closes the arc, and it plays like reconciliation — a taking-back of control after the torment of the previous track. Not joyful. Determined. There's a difference, and this song knows it.

Taken together, those three tracks tell the story the second half is quietly building toward: descent, torment, and a hard-won kind of resolve.

Sitting just outside that arc but still part of the same stretch of the record, “Into the Dust” has its own moment worth pausing on — something distinctly 70s about the production the instant Phoebe hits a falsetto. I still can't fully place the reference. Kate Bush meets Carly Simon is the closest I've got, though I'm not certain that's right. Not Bowie, despite what I first thought — something else entirely, something I'm still chasing.

Moments worth slowing down for

Some individual details deserve their own space:

There's a lot of echo used throughout the record, with a touch of chorus — and once you notice it, you hear it tying together nearly everything above: the mistiness of “Overthrown,” the falsetto moment on “Into the Dust,” the atmosphere on “Berlin.” It might be the record's connective tissue more than any single lyrical theme is.

The Takeaway

Life's a Bitch Mixtape earns its shelf space by refusing to sit still — a first half that tells one kind of story outright, and a second half that tells a quieter one through atmosphere, with a trilogy right at its centre carrying the emotional weight: descent, torment, and a hard-won resolve. It's rare that a record gives you both a narrative and a genuine structural idea to chew on. This one does, and it's why I keep coming back to it rather than skipping past.

Currently listening on: Denon D-M41DAB / Wharfedale Diamond 220, with a recent pass on Sennheiser HD 560S headphones — the neutral tuning surfaced a little extra depth and warmth in places the speakers hadn't quite shown me yet.