Brooklyn’s own Rafi Barides isn’t here to offer you a polished redemption arc or a set of neatly packaged life lessons. Instead, his latest LP, ‘Storm Before The Storm’, serves as a visceral, sonic documentary of a man caught in the crosshairs of a spiritual and professional identity crisis. It is a record that breathes in the cramped space between romantic obsession and a desperate search for meaning, refusing to tidy up the wreckage for the sake of a pop hook.
Raised in an Orthodox Jewish environment and now navigating life outside those boundaries, Rafi uses his background as a sharp lens to examine the "fake school" education that left him feeling ill-equipped for the secular world. On the devastating ‘This Too Shall Pass’, he weaves the Hebrew phrase “gam zeh ya’avor” into a narrative of rejection from aerospace school and a literal physical collapse. "This too shall pass, but with the way I feel right now, this too shall pass away," he sings, a play on words that feels both clever and heartbreakingly sincere, especially considering he wrote the second verse from a hospital bed after his appendix burst.
The album thrives on this brand of brutal honesty. Rafi is remarkably self-aware about his own toxic patterns, particularly the "purposelessness problem" that leads him to worship romantic interests as a distraction from his own stagnation. On ‘The Proof’, he abandons all pretences of healthy boundaries, asking a lover to be the evidence that life is worth enduring. It’s "beautifully accusatory," as he puts it, charging his partners with the impossible task of being his existential anchor.
Musically, the record is a masterclass in restraint. Stripped-back indie-pop and acoustic folk arrangements allow the lyrics—often conversational and uncomfortably intimate—to take centre stage. Whether he’s tackling the "flat earthers" of the NYC dating scene on the sarcastically biting ‘The Earth Is Flat’ or dissecting his childhood inferiority complex on ‘Good Enough’, Rafi prioritises clarity over spectacle.
‘Storm Before The Storm’ doesn't end with a sunrise; it ends with the radioactivity of ‘Chernobyl (Appendix)’, leaving the listener in the thick of the emotional weather system. It’s a brave, unresolved, and deeply moving portrait of a multi-disciplinary artist who would rather be honest than performatively perfect.
Available now, the album is as honest and wonderfully raw, offering a unique musical world. You can read all about the stories behind the songs on Rafi’s website, and for more, follow him on Instagram.
