One of the band’s defining features is the way they share vocal duties. Nolan Jakupovski, Sophia Chavez and Anita Fowl trade verses and harmonies throughout, sometimes sounding like three friends finishing each other’s sentences, other times like they’re having a playful argument through song. That conversational vocal dynamic gives the record a communal warmth, grounding even its most experimental turns.

Musically, Shy at first is a delightful jumble. There are moments of jangle-pop charm on tracks like “Words Mean Less” and “Diary,” glitchy electronics and hyperactive drums that push songs into indietronica territory, and pure twee pop sweetness on “Friend of a Friend,” where the longing for connection feels both earnest and catchy. The track list reads like a mixtape you’d make for someone you’re trying to understand better.

But there’s also contrast here. Songs like “Dumb Lit” pair melancholic themes about connection and misunderstanding with irresistibly buoyant melodies, revealing cootie catcher’s knack for turning introspective ideas into something that feels cheerful and immediate. The closing moments lean into softer folk touches, but even then, unexpected electronics sneak back in, reminding you that this band doesn’t settle for any one sound.

Shy at first can feel unpolished — deliberately so — like a rehearsal you’re lucky enough to overhear. It’s charming because of its imperfections, its surprise twists and its unabashed enthusiasm. In a musical landscape that often values slick production, cootie catcher’s debut feels refreshingly unconcerned with perfection. They’re not just making songs — they’re building a world that’s open, playful and alive.

Photo at the top by Colin Medley.