A tender folk spiral of anxiety, nostalgia, and healing, Shallow Alcove’s ‘Mangos’ is a soft unraveling of who we were and who we’re becoming.
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Stream: “Mangos” – Shallow Alcove
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been searching for a song that felt like it was ripped straight from my diary.
“Mangos” by Shallow Alcove is that kind of song for me.
I cried the first time I heard it. And every time after, I cried again. I still don’t fully understand why it hit me so hard, but maybe that’s the point. Sometimes a song speaks to the part of you that hasn’t found the words yet – and then suddenly, there they are.
I went to the mall to return my body
But they told me it’d been more than 30 days
I went to the beach to get more happy
But I cried the whole vacation away
I always wanted to see the world
But as I stand here on this old cobblestone
I realize I wish I was back in grade school
Playing in my neighbor’s front lawn
And with all these miles
clocked under my belt
Oh, I hardly miss you
I just miss myself
I first discovered Shallow Alcove through a random Spotify recommendation – “Aim to Please” – a tender anthem for recovering people pleasers like myself. But it was “Mangos,” released in late October 2024, that unraveled me. A gentle, melancholic folk song that spirals inward, “Mangos” asks quietly devastating questions about identity, anxiety, and the nearly invisible moments that shape who we become.
Grace Kirchbaum, the band’s lead singer and songwriter, told me in our interview for the C Word Magazine that she wrote “Mangos” during their first European tour.
She was grappling with emetophobia – a fear of vomiting – that triggered a period of intense panic attacks. While I don’t share that specific fear, I do live with claustrophobia, and hearing Kirchbaum describe anxiety as something that reshapes even the most mundane experiences, like choosing a plane seat, resonated deeply.
I used to hope for the window seat
And I’d admire all the clouds below me
Now I pay extra for the aisle
And all I got is this irrational worry
Just when it gets to the perfect length
I know that I am gonna wanna chop my hair
That lyric crushed me. It reminded me of my own sleepless nights after panic attacks, those irrational fears that bloom into physical tremors, the heaviness that follows you even when you’re on vacation, in love, or surrounded by beauty. This is what “Mangos” does so well – it names the quiet dread that follows us across oceans and cobblestones. The sadness that doesn’t care about how charming the square is.
Sitting in a charming European square
I learn that sadness can find you anywhere
There’s something so raw about that realisation, especially when paired with Kirchbaum’s stripped-back guitar and aching vocals. It’s not showy or overly produced. Like much of Shallow Alcove’s work, “Mangos” leans into a DIY intimacy that feels like a whispered confession between friends during a sleepover. You can tell this is a band that started playing in basements and backyards before graduating to real venues. Their sound isn’t about perfection – it’s about closeness, truth, and connection.
In the evening I’m convinced
that I might die
When the morning comes
I’m glad I’m still alive
And with all these miles
clock under my belt
Oh, I hardly miss you
I just miss myself
Throughout the track, “Mangos” slowly and brilliantly peels back layers of nostalgia, grief, and self-reflection. It’s a song about growing older – and realising how many versions of yourself you’ve abandoned just to become someone new. But it’s also about something more tender: The capacity to return to yourself.
When I was a kid, I hated mangos
now I sit on an Italian park bench
wondering where did all the time go
sticky mango juice dripping down my chin
and in that moment I realized
how much I have the capacity to change.
That closing verse stopped me cold. It reminded me that healing isn’t always loud or cinematic. Sometimes it’s mango juice on your chin and realizing you don’t have to die the way you once thought you might. I’ve changed so much in the past few years – once a chronic peacekeeper, bending myself into impossible shapes to keep others comfortable. Listening to “Mangos” felt like permission to be someone new. Or maybe, just someone honest.
Shallow Alcove’s latest record Doggy Paddle offers more of this kind of aching beauty.
With eight tracks total – including “Music Box,” “Aim to Please,” “Pampa, TX,” “Gnaw,” and “Waiting for the Tulips” – it’s shaping up to be a small, intimate universe for people like us: The overthinkers, the feel-everythings, the ones trying to come back home to themselves.
So if you’ve ever stood in a beautiful place and felt inexplicably hollow, if you’ve wept over your own capacity for growth, or looked at a piece of fruit and thought about all the people you used to be – this song is for you.
“Maybe I don’t have to die this way.”
Maybe not. Maybe healing is as slow and sticky and sweet as mango juice.
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:: stream/purchase “Mangos” here ::
:: connect with Shallow Alcove here ::
:: stream/purchase Doggy Paddle EP here ::
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Stream: “Mangos” – Shallow Alcove
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© Thomas Smith
© Thomas Smith
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