The Figs

About The Figs

The Figs started in a Portland basement in 2014, which is about as predictable an origin story as you can get for an indie band that records on four-track. Singer-guitarist Maya Cordova and drummer Jeff Lim met at a house show, bonded over their shared collection of Guided by Voices bootlegs, and decided to make music that sounded like it was recorded through a blanket. Bassist Theo Chen joined six months later after responding to a Craigslist ad that reportedly just said "bass player wanted, must own tuner."

Their first album, Fig Leaf, came out in 2016 on a micro-label that operated out of someone's garage. The production was deliberately muddy, Cordova's vocals sat way back in the mix, and the whole thing had this humid, sleepy quality that made you want to lie on a floor and stare at a ceiling fan. The track "Bruised" got some traction on college radio, mostly because it captured a specific flavor of being twenty-something and directionless without making a big deal about it.

Dried Fruit in 2018 was where they figured out their sound. The lo-fi aesthetic was still there, but the songwriting got sharper. "Pulp" became their breakout track, not through any major playlist push, just steady word-of-mouth and a particularly popular TikTok of someone's cat that happened to use it. The album balanced Cordova's deadpan lyrics about grocery store anxiety and failed relationships with moments of surprising melodic warmth. "Sugar Content" and "Fermenting" showed they could write hooks that stuck even when buried under tape hiss.

Stem and Stone dropped in 2020, recorded right before everything shut down. Darker and more claustrophobic than their earlier work, which turned out to be accidentally perfect timing. "Planted" dealt with being stuck in place, "Root System" was about suffocating relationships, and the whole record felt like it was recorded in a room with no windows. It found an audience with people who were living exactly that reality.

Their most recent album, Rotting Sweetly, came out last year and marked a subtle shift. Still lo-fi, still understated, but the production opened up just enough to let some air in. "Overripe" was almost poppy by their standards. "Composting" became a fan favorite for its surprising optimism about decay and renewal, which sounds pretentious but somehow isn't when Cordova sings it.

They're touring right now, playing mid-sized venues to crowds who know every word despite the fact that those words are often deliberately hard to hear. The Orchard, a companion EP to Rotting Sweetly, comes out next month with four new tracks. According to their label, it's "a meditation on growth and cultivation," which probably means more songs about plants as metaphors for human failure. They're good at that.

Their shows are intimate and slightly awkward in the best way. The crowd stands fairly still, listening intently rather than dancing. There's a palpable concentration in the room. The band plays with minimal banter, letting the songs speak. People leave talking about specific passages rather than the overall energy.

Known for Fig Leaf, Dried Fruit, Stem and Stone, Rotting Sweetly, The Orchard

See The Figs Live