When Manchester indie rockers Westside Cowboy emerged last year, fresh out of university, they were a semi-blank slate. They kept their songwriting uncomplicated and stripped back their live shows to a four-piece kit. But they used their simplicity to their advantage; knowing only half of what they wanted to sound like, they could toy with the rest until they found their magic.

With their debut EP, 2025’s This Better Be Something Great, Westside Cowboy claimed the mantle of what they called “Britainicana,” adapting country inspirations to a “stock”—their word—indie-rock sound. The rootsy influence was clearest in the closers on their EPs, taking the form of languorous melodic ballads featuring either a prominent cowpoke drawl (“Slowly, I’m Sure”) or cooing doo-wop harmony (“In the Morning”). But they quickly sidestepped their self-imposed label. Even on their first two EPs, they rarely incorporated obvious country signifiers; while they sprinkled violin into early songs “Drunk Surfer” and “Strange Taxidermy,” and they’re generous with the steel resonator guitar, most of their momentum comes from pummeling drums, amped-out jangle, and four-part harmonies that mesh together as if by chance.

Their debut LP, It Goes On, doubles as Westside Cowboy’s coming-of-age story. Musically, it captures their quickly gained confidence; they bob in and out of their influences easily, taking advantage of whatever propels them. Opener “Kick Stones (The Boys)” evokes the Velvet Underground’s “What Goes On,” molding its fuzzy guitar into a faster, sharper melody that crescendos restlessly. Likewise, zippy Vampire Weekend guitar trills infuse the bouncy instrumental breakdown of “Paperchains,” which jolts the band out of its melancholic depiction of graying from boredom. But for all the music’s joy and lightness, it’s gnarled with anxiety. Adulthood is less a goal to be reached than the act of becoming useful; despite their young age, they question if they’ve done enough to fix this broken world.

On the sweet, sad “Coyote,” Aoife O’Connell and Reuben Haycocks warn with quivering voices of the geotagging masses trampling the wonders of the world: “This is the most beautiful place on planet Earth/And I’m killing it with every step.” On album centerpiece “Worried Age,” Haycocks likens getting through the day to fighting off full-body paralysis. “I sit in my car, with the engine off/With the wheel stuck into my hand,” he murmurs, contrasting the pumping kick drum and fluttering guitars with his darkening tone. Singing in elaborate close harmony, the Cowboys lament the way that fear has rendered their generation immobile, stunned by the prospect of “a careless death.” They drum faster, strum harder, sing louder—anything to punch through the debilitating panic..

Compared to much contemporary indie rock, It Goes On is markedly naked, devoid of effects that might muddle the band’s raw onstage chemistry. Recorded and mixed in Leeds with Loren Humphrey—the producer and mixer behind the group’s 2026 EP So Much Country ‘Till We Get There, as well as Cameron Winter’s Heavy Metal—the LP features ramshackle, almost invisible production. Its live sheen stems from Westside Cowboy’s earliest material, which they wrote as a catalog of concert-ready tracks. Back then, despite the buzz that their 2025 Glastonbury Emerging Talent Award generated, most of their gigs slotted them as openers for bigger bands, so they kept their early songs accordingly compact.

The new album, on the other hand, pushes and pulls at volume, texture, and tempo. On the rousing anthem “Pin Up Boys,” Haycocks curdles into blistering rage, consonants jabbing into the tape. O’Connell belts a siren-like melody at some distance from the mic, venting her frustration into the air, signal crackling under the strain of her projecting. Atmosphere is everything in the raw, melancholy ballads “Patchwork” and “Take My Leaving As I Love You”: fingertips rub against guitar strings; stray piano notes underscore the emptiness of lines like, “Nothing good comes out of comfort.” In moments like these, Westside Cowboy sound far more fraught than the younger, more composed group of EPs past.

When they broke through last year, the Manchester band’s cut-and-dried alt-rock looked easy, soothing, and natural. With It Goes On, though, they’ve forced themselves to assess their austere tastes, their precarious youth, and their ability to change with time. By roughening themselves up, Westside Cowboy have gotten just a little closer to knowing who they are.