Mysterious souls in an era where elusiveness can feel all but dead, Ever Age appeared out of nowhere in August 2025 with an album so accomplished it made us think of classic debuts like Out Of The Silent Planet by King’s X. Not because it sounds the same, but because it wasn’t until that once-in-a-generation record that anyone had heard of the Texan trio. It’s the same for Ever Age and their self-titled debut. Most people still have no clue.
“We like to play outdoors,” 29-year-old singer-guitarist Aiden Snyder says. “Some of the jams that turned into songs on the album began with us playing out in the woods at night. Crazy spirit.”
Born and raised in Toronto, Snyder and his 27-year-old brother and drummer Neil moved to Vancouver a few years ago, which is where the story of Ever Age began. “I was, like, three the first time I saw a guitar,” says Aiden. “It was the coolest thing I’d ever seen.”
He learned without lessons to strum an acoustic, so for his ninth birthday his parents gave him an electric guitar and amp. That was the moment the universe revealed itself to him, he says. “Soon after, they got Neil a drum set and that was it. We started jamming, and that’s pretty much what we still do.”
That said, Ever Age – completed by bassist Eli Saltzberg – are much more than just a jam band. If you’re a boomer, imagine an early-70s collision between Black Sabbath, Hawkwind and Pink Floyd. If you’re Gen Z, imagine a Spotify playlist of Kyuss, Alice In Chains and maybe Monster Magnet. Add a misty mountaintop and smoke rising through the trees and you have tracks like the instrumental Coldera, the album’s epic curtain raiser, all fire guitars, thunder drums and bass – and those guitars sing, man.
When on the album you hear Aiden’s vocal for the first time, on the head-spinning Psychlone, it’s like a ghost trying to communicate from the next world. It’s a nothing-special voice that allows room for the super-swagger guitars and hard-bargain drums of tracks like Black Suede to really light the sky.
As we speak, Aiden sits cradling his guitar. “It kinda goes everywhere with me,” he says, smiling. He tells me the story of the band – how he and his brother were doing a summer job as loggers, camped out high in the hills, and to entertain the others he and Neil began playing for them at night. “We only had one song,” he says, “which I wrote fast, about twenty minutes before we went on, so we played that and just kept going from there.”
He talks about allowing ideas to present themselves “when they’re ready”. It’s that free-form storm-gathering that makes the music of Ever Age so compelling – and ready right now to present itself.