Some tracks hit you like a freight train made of glitter and grit — and “Sweetlips” by Laguna is exactly that kind of sonic chaos. Straight from the scorched psychedelic heart of Geelong, Victoria, this new single from James Guida’s solo project isn’t just a song — it’s an entire vibe, smeared with distortion, soaked in VHS static, and buzzing with unapologetic energy.

“Sweetlips” is not trying to be polished, radio-ready, or algorithm-friendly. It’s raw in the best way — the kind of track that sounds like it’s been dug out of the lost archives of some 70s basement session, passed through a fuzz pedal, and spat out onto warped cassette tape. That’s not a flaw — that’s the point. This is DIY as religion. Lo-fi as love language. Punk-adjacent psych rock with an art-school soul.

James Guida is Laguna — he writes, records, produces, and now even releases his own music through Mountain Girl Records, the label he founded in 2024. It’s this fierce independence that gives “Sweetlips” its spine. You can hear it in the blown-out drum tones, the snarling bassline, the vocals that walk the tightrope between glam strut and garage desperation. You don’t just listen to this song — you tumble headfirst into it.

Sonically, “Sweetlips” channels the holy trinity of Thin Lizzy, Black Sabbath, and early Ty Segall — but don’t be fooled into thinking this is straight-up retro cosplay. There’s something scrappier here. Something weirder. Like a suburban surf kid who grew up on Sabbath riffs, stole a camcorder, and started writing songs about dreams dissolving in slow motion. That cinematic vibe isn’t an accident — the accompanying music video (mastered on actual VHS, no less) is glitchy, surreal, and soaked in analog weirdness. It’s like watching Wayne’s World through a fever dream filter.

And then there's the typeface. James created a custom hand-drawn font inspired by the song’s visual elements. First teased in the video clip, the “Sweetlips” alphabet is a playful, punk gesture of artistic generosity. He’s releasing it for anyone to use, because that’s the Laguna ethos: share your tools, keep it messy, and make it personal. It’s a subtle but powerful middle finger to the over-commercialized music industry machine — this is music that invites you to participate, not just consume.

That through-line of tactile connection isn’t new for Laguna fans. His debut cassette came packed with zines, stickers, bookmarks — a treasure trove of lo-fi ephemera that made listening feel intimate, even sacred. With “Sweetlips,” Guida proves that digital releases can have soul too, if you approach them like an artist, not a product manager.

Lyrically, the track doesn’t spoon-feed you. As with most Laguna songs, there’s ambiguity at play — snippets of feeling, attitude, rebellion. The vocals are more weapon than word, pushing emotion through tone rather than tidy phrasing. It’s an impressionistic take on rock ‘n’ roll storytelling, and it works because the feeling lands. You don’t need a lyric sheet to know this track is about lust, longing, and maybe a little self-destruction.

“Sweetlips” isn’t just a single — it’s a manifesto. A rallying cry for anyone who misses the days when music was loud, imperfect, tangible, and weird. With this track, James Guida doesn’t just keep the spirit of DIY alive — he sets it on fire and throws it into the sky like a bottle rocket.

“Sweetlips” is available now on all major streaming platforms

Listen to Laguna and other similar artists on our Spotify Playlist ‘New Music Spotlight - Indie & Alternative’

“Sweetlips” - Laguna

F.O.M.O - Tarn PK