By DJ Ratgirl 

Sometime in the latter half of 2010, I’m sitting in the backseat of my dad’s hand-me-down silver car that stinks of pizza (he was a delivery driver) and weed. This is where and when I first heard the only song I would ever listen to off of Sleigh Bells’ debut album Treats for the next 15 years of my life. On May 11th, 2010, Sleigh Bells released their first album Treats, the world’s first formal exposure to the creative amalgamation of Derek Miller and Alexis Krauss. The most commercially successful song off this album, Rill Rill, was my first introduction to the band, first heard while sitting in my purple plastic car seat. It begins with a sample from the first few seconds of Funkadelic’s Can You Get To That. Now, at the age of 5, I had no idea the cultural and musical significance of Funkadelic, and couldn’t fully appreciate Sleigh Bells sampling one of the most influential Black rock albums ever… but regardless, I was hooked. Sleigh Bells very recently released a new album, and it reminded me of how I had never thought to dive deeper into Treats, and was inspired to revisit it in its entirety. Almost 16 years later, I am full of regret that I hadn’t thought to listen sooner. 

If played, even at a normal volume, this album would definitely blow your speakers out— mainly due to the crunchy and distortion-filled instrumentals, which sound like the guitars and drums were recorded with a 2007 iPhone (but not in a bad way). The heavy instrumentals are balanced well with the sweet, singsong-y vocals done by Krauss. Although her lyrics are kind of hard to make out, due to the metallic intensity of the instrumentals, they remain fairly simplistic and repetitive, without becoming overdone and annoying— and very reminiscent of cheerleading chants. 

I was expecting the sound of Treats to be similar to Rill Rill as I clicked play, but I couldn’t have been more far off— it makes me wonder what my expectations would be if I had initially listened to Rill Rill when I was older, or what they would be if I had listened to a different track for 15 years. Not that Rill Rill sounds incredibly different from the rest of the songs featured, but it’s one of the more “chill” tracks. The instrumentals in Rill Rill aren’t as distorted and compressed as in the track Straight A’s, for example—you can barely make out the lyrics, as it sounds like the bass in someone’s car has blown out while simultaneously hearing it play from underwater. Even at a normal volume, this track hurts my ears. Compared to Rill Rill, which features more of that melodramatic “cheerleaderness” in its lyrics and the way it's delivered by Krauss. Every track has its own level of intensity, which is something I really appreciate in an album—it makes the listener want to keep listening, and keeps the listening experience interesting. There is nothing I hate more than when I listen to an album and can’t differentiate the tracks from one another, and it ends up becoming repetitive and boring. This is why Kate Bush is one of my favorite artists of all time; her albums seem to be one big experiment with sound, and as a result, every track shines in its own memorable way.

Unfortunately, almost all of Sleigh Bells’s work fails to recreate the awesome absurdity their first album did. I listened to their newest album after my revisit of Treats, and I have to say it does fall kind of flat— every song kind of sounds the same-ish, and it feels like they aren’t experimenting and meshing different sounds and genres as they had with Treats. I was disappointed. I was hungry for more of the unforgettable first listen of Treats, and was left empty handed. 

The album cover, featuring “faceless” cheerleaders, reflects the tone of the music: cheerleaders cracked-out. Something peppy and sweet laced with insanity. It also reveals some of the themes Krauss and Miller’s lyrics discuss— although simple, most of the lyrics dance around “young-ness”, teenagers, school, romance— all things that are pretty reminiscent of high school. This album revolves around youth and the craziness that comes with it, and the album cover Krauss and Miller choose reflects this perfectly.

With my revisit, I don’t think Rill Rill remains my favorite. Run The Heart, the fifth track off Treats, stood out to me even more than Rill Rill. Krauss’s vocals sound like they recorded her saying “ah” in different pitches, and added it to a keyboard, so they can layer and play them back to back. The heavy distortion and pop-like vocal combo on this track is by far my favorite; I think because the instrumentals are leveled out with synth (my favorite byproduct of the 80s) and Krauss’s vocals, along with overall balance between the vocals and instrumentals. The vocals aren’t overpowered by the drums and synth, and I love how Krauss’s voice is used as an instrument as well. Again, I’m left to wonder if I would feel the same if I hadn’t been listening to Rill Rill for so long—would I have loved that one the most had I not been so exposed? It’s definitely still a top contender, but I wonder if I’m so drawn to Run The Heart because of how different it sounds.

Upon release, the album garnered critical acclaim, because it was so unique and different from the sound being released at the time— and something I immediately picked up on. I have heard probably hundreds of albums in my lifetime, and still Treats stands out to me; it dared to be different in 2010, and it still dares to be different in 2025; newer music being released, to me, all kind of sounds the same. Everyone seems to be recreating someone or something else, and most artists seem to be striving towards “one hit wonders”— songs that become instantly popular on social media. Instead of making music as a passion, it’s more focused on monetary gain (Taylor Swift I’m looking at you). In an age where artists are increasingly threatened by the looming uncertainty of robots and technology, albums like this are just what we need—reminders to make whatever you want, and embrace the bizarre and unique. Although Sleigh Bells, in my opinion, has not been able to recreate something as wonderful as their first album, they still continue their passion of creating art, and I respect that. 

Although I am not a musical artist, I have obtained this extreme obsession with music— starting at the age of 5. Now, at the brink of 21, this obsession seems to be stuck with me. When revisiting this album, I was transported to the back of my dad’s stinky old car, with the mud-stained ceiling and sticky cupholders, and was reminded of the notion that some things just stick with you forever— including the incredibly bizarre and transformative album your dad randomly puts on.