Petey USA reflects on the restless songwriting impulses that inspired 'The Yips,' a record that employs fiction, humor, and discomfort to confront anxiety, identity, and the dread of stagnation. Navigating through past identities, present insights, and envisioned futures, he discusses his reluctance towards nostalgia, the willingness to relinquish control, and his preference for experiencing happiness in life rather than in songwriting—even as this album stands as his most emotionally accurate work to date.
**Stream: 'The Yips' – Petey USA**
Petey USA has a distrust of permanence.
He avoids revisiting former records, eschews romanticizing past versions of himself, and resists the notion that a completed album could truly encapsulate who he is currently. To him, albums function as snapshots—useful, flawed, and quickly rendered outdated. “The second you release something,” he remarks, “it’s already a misrepresentation of who you are.”
This inherent tension is central to The Yips, an album crafted swiftly and under pressure, devoid of the luxury of overthinking. Produced with Chris Walla—known for his contributions to Death Cab for Cutie—and released on July 11 via Capitol Records, Petey USA's fourth studio album constructs a fictional universe not as an escape from reality, but to convey truths about anxiety, inadequacy, ambition, and the underlying fear that the systems we’re taught to believe in may be ineffective. It stands as both his most audacious and rawest work, propelled by a voice that often seems on the verge of breaking—not for theatrical effect, but because the songs demand such intensity.
The Yips – Petey USA
"I’ve got the yips, read my lips
I used to run this town then I got sick
I can’t hear anything, I lost my sight
Can someone rub some mud over my eyes?
I followed all the rules, I showed up every day
Could you explain to me what’s making me this way?
I hope to God won’t pass it on, onto my kids
I wanna quit, I wanna quit,
I wanna quit, I’ve got the yips"
– “The Yips,” Petey USA
The Yips comes after an intense period of touring following the release of 2023's USA, Petey's major-label debut—an album influenced heavily by anticipation, momentum, and the pressure of public visibility. Still deep in an extended touring cycle, Petey found himself at a familiar junction for many artists: the necessity to keep progressing colliding with the understanding that overthinking only exacerbated his state. There was no room for spiraling, dissecting meaning, or assigning importance where it did not belong. “I realized that none of that overthinking benefited me at all,” he confesses. “So I’m just gonna write it and see what happens.”
The outcome is his most cohesive and emotionally anchored work yet—not because it seeks clarity, but because it allows for confidence and uncertainty, order and disorder, to coexist. This tension is palpable in his delivery—the manner in which his voice cracks, pushes forward, or sounds almost breathless as if trying to catch up to thoughts racing ahead of his comfort. Across the record, Petey writes from different identities simultaneously: past selves burdened by shame, present insights earned through experience, and envisioned futures influenced more by fear than by reality.
This blending of identities is not a novel idea; rather, it stems from a creative journey that straddles distance and immediacy, abstraction and confession—starting well before Petey USA took form. Before his solo project, Peter Martin spent years with the acclaimed indie band Young Jesus, where atmosphere held equal weight to narrative, and meaning was often found in suggestion rather than direct statements. Since debuting in 2021—first simply as Petey, then as Petey USA—Martin's solo venture has emerged as a sharper, more immediate expression rooted in inner contemplation, humor, and emotional honesty, presented with the precision of someone aware of how easily distance can defend against vulnerability.
While Young Jesus engaged with emotions from a distance, Petey USA confronts them head-on—nowhere is this more evident than on his latest LP. Set in a fictional dive bar filled with anxious patrons, hopeful dreamers, and men striving to survive another night without collapsing, The Yips unfolds like a collection of intertwined confessions. In the title track, Petey opens with a candid revelation: "I’ve got the yips, read my lips / I used to run this town, then I got sick"—both defining the album's mood and its stakes. His voice, charged and all-consuming, balances confrontation with exhaustion, as if vocalizing the problem is the only way to prevent it from consuming him entirely.
Anchored by a relentless, propulsive rhythm, “The Yips” feels deliberately overwhelming—a spiraling tempo where every idea cl
Petey USA contemplates the restless songwriting impulses that inspired ‘The Yips,’ an album that employs fiction, humor, and discomfort to address themes of anxiety, identity, and the fear of stagnation. Shifting through earlier versions of himself, current insights, and envisioned futures, he discusses his struggle against nostalgia, the importance of relinquishing control, and his preference for reserving happiness for life rather than for songwriting – even as this album stands as his most emotionally nuanced creation to date.