MUSIC
Late Stage Crush Reckons with Love’s False Gods on “The Church Ain’t Open This Late”
If you’ve ever stared at a text thread like it’s a sacred scripture or mistook chaos for chemistry, Late Stage Crush is here to tell you, you’re not alone. The Raleigh-based indie-Americana duo, known for their raw emotional honesty and stripped-down style, returns with “The Church Ain’t Open This Late,” a slow-burning, soul-scorching anthem that calls time on toxic devotion masquerading as love.
Late Stage Crush is what happens when poetic storytelling meets unfiltered emotion. Formed in 2023, the project is the brainchild of vocalist Rebecca Sunnybrook and poet-lyricist Susan Mahlburg. Their debut EP, High Noon Divorce, introduced listeners to a world where heartbreak isn’t just a wound it’s a lens for clarity. Now, with their newest single, they continue to carve out a space in modern Americana for the bruised, the brave, and the beautifully bitter.
“The Church Ain’t Open This Late” is a reckoning. Inspired partly by Taylor Swift’s “False God,” the track trades in its own liturgical metaphors to question how often we let love become a false idol. From the very first verse “Met her on a Wednesday / With her halo in her purse” we’re plunged into a twisted, whiskey-soaked chapel of a relationship. There’s no altar here, just a warped kind of worship where obsession is dressed in holiness and staying power is confused for salvation.
Sunnybrook’s delivery is restrained but simmering—like someone trying not to cry during a sermon they don’t believe in anymore. The vocals land soft but cut deep, especially when paired with lyrics like “You baptized me in bourbon / Called it holy rain / But I never asked for worship—I just asked you to stay.” That line alone is a mic drop in the middle of the track, exposing the bitter truth behind the romantic rituals we perform in the name of love.
Beauty of the song lies in its refusal to over-explain. With a minimalist arrangement that keeps the spotlight on the vocals and lyrics, “The Church Ain’t Open This Late” builds its emotional weight slowly. It’s all dusty pews, burnt coats and half-spoken gospel truths each line packing a punch without ever raising its voice. Mahlburg’s poetic touch is unmistakable, painting vivid images with just a few words: “Now the hymns are getting quiet / And the saints are unemployed.” There’s a world in that sentence a world where love has let its guard down and the only thing left is the ashtray full of broken promises.
What’s perhaps most impressive is how the song balances sadness with self-awareness. It’s not a cry for help, it’s a quiet revolution. A decision to walk away from something that felt sacred but wasn’t. By the time the outro rolls in, you’re not just mourning a relationship, you’re setting it down gently and walking out of the church with your head held high.
So if you’ve ever called something “love” when it was really just habit… or holiness when it was only heat… this song’s for you. Ready to feel something real? Stream “The Church Ain’t Open This Late” by Late Stage Crush now on Spotify.