We got caught by storm and we ain’t even know it.” This lyric from Injury Reserve’s final album, By the Time I Get to Phoenix (2021), has retrospectively segued into what was next for rapper RiTchie and producer Parker Corey. The record was shaped by bandmate/rapper Stepa J. Groggs’ untimely passing, imbuing the songs with intense grief and the despondent understanding of growth’s nonlinear process. In the years since, the surviving two have reemerged as By Storm – a name pulled from the lyric and the song title, “Bye Storm.”
From the ground up, By Storm is built on what it means to move forward. The “By” in their name feels tethered to the lyric’s current-ness, as if the pain they were consumed by is just as powerful. Yet the song title’s spelling –“Bye”– indicates a hopeful future of one day stepping beyond their hardship. Now, in 2026, with the release of their debut studio album, My Ghosts Go Ghost, it’s clear that RiTchie and Corey are still in that storm, but their exploration of it – both musically and lyrically – has reached a newfound, if inconclusive, maturity.
While Groggs’ death was a central focus of BTTIGTP, My Ghosts Go Ghost is about moving forward in a broader sense. The grief remains foregrounded, but RiTchie devotes time to other tensions: commodifying oneself on “Grapefruit,” the inescapable truth that effort doesn’t guarantee reciprocation on “In My Town,” and the wide scope of adulthood chaos. For a group in By Storm’s position – reforming after the loss of a bandmate – the looming question was how to move forward without severing the legacy that shaped them. In history, Joy Division became New Order; Mother Love Bone became Pearl Jam, but the transition risks feeling like a detachment rather than a tribute. By Storm navigate this nuance with care, making it apparent that they’re as much still in grief as they are tackling the other “storms” life has taken them through.
While these “storms” are based on struggle, a better synonym would be “confusions,” ambivalent spaces where joy and fear blur together. The opening track, for example, sits in this muddied terrain, as RiTchie wrestles with guilt, responsibility, and agency as he and his partner expect their first child. His excitement is undercut by anxiety about how everything – especially their relationship – will change. He longs for a life where he can still have her to himself, regardless of how unrealistic that is. Over metamorphosing experimental production, RiTchie recognizes his selfishness, but his natural feelings persist. The song introduces the album perfectly; it’s charged with impermanence, the rejection of change, but with a reluctant, overarching understanding of its necessity.
“In My Town” is another example rooted in positive change, but the veil is taken off to expose a complex underbelly. The track dives into RiTchie’s current state: more renowned in the underground music scene than ever before, yet still finds himself having to write lyrics in between DoorDash deliveries. The track exposes the lie that effort ensures reward; that no matter how much someone puts themselves into their work, they live in a world that won’t reciprocate.
Across the album, RiTchie’s jagged vocals convey a range of emotions, as genre-bending production from Corey articulates feelings too abstract for speech. “Can I Have You for Myself?” and “Zig Zag” venture into unsettled ambient-folk, while parts of “Dead Weight” and “Best Interest” lean towards formless noise.
Even at his most avoidant, RiTchie never strays far from the path toward growth. On “Dead Weight,” grief is depicted as a burden that has been dragged for years. On “Zig Zag,” RiTchie dodges his issues out of self-preservation, but understands how damaging that pattern can be.
In the album’s final three tracks, By Storm finds closure in closure’s impossibility. “Double Trio 2,” first released as a single in early 2025, takes on a deeper significance in the album’s context. It echoes the titular refrain of Injury Reserve’s “Bye Storm,” acknowledging that being six years removed from tragedy doesn’t guarantee peace. The penultimate “And I Dance” feels almost anthemic in its insistence on moving forward, but its message would be too cut and dry if not for the final track, “GGG.” Here, RiTchie comes face to face with his “ghosts” – the memories and unresolved emotions he’s zig-zagged around for too long. Over spiritual guitar-driven production, his reflective vocals drift between pain and acceptance; aware that the only way to move forward is by making peace with his past.
Altogether, My Ghosts Go Ghost is impressive in its multiplicity. Lyrically, RiTchie is as honest as he is vague, allowing listeners to project their own experiences onto his poetry. Corey’s restless multi-genre production works brilliantly in tandem with RiTchie’s vocals and lyrics, expanding them past performance and into resonating humanhood. Without Groggs, this is not an Injury Reserve album. But without Groggs, it could never have existed – symbolized by Injury Reserve’s credit as collaborators on streaming platforms. Injury Reserve will forever be a part of By Storm in the same way that RiTchie’s past will never stop guiding his future.
8.5/10
