By PS Perkins
Crashing guitar sounds like a giant ripping sheet of paper, jangling chords punctuated by drums pulsing like the heartbeat of an excited animal, all suddenly giving way to some rather delicate jazz chords and string sounds. The vocals are saturated just enough to situate them in the mix and give it some grit, but not so much that the fragility is stripped away.
The progression tumbles, certainly collecting no moss. There are more than three chords here, and they are well constructed, arranged and executed. There are also more than three words. The lyrics race by quickly even in the more laid-back sections of the song, leaving me curious and wanting to know more about these fast streaming packets of data whizzing by, and what they might contain. There’s a sense of urgency and even anxiety to the singing that drives the riff forward while simplifying the complex melodies. Those who thought they would escape the room without a waltzy breakdown, accompanied by a whistling part that gradually builds to a full-blown five-part chorus will be pleasantly swept off their feet by the end of this song. I thought the unresolved final note was a nice touch to the expertly executed harmonies at play there.
This came in labelled as “Indie Rock” but I think that stops short of accurately selling this - I hear a little jazz and maybe something progressive, but with clear rock sensibilities and a certain endearing but perhaps even underexposed quirkiness. Along with that, a general willingness to indulge but not fatigue that sensibility. There is a complex structure to the song - it’s not a typical verse-chorus-verse affair - yet it retains a fashionable architecture throughout. It’s extravagant, but not baroque, accessible but nowhere near average, it’s reserved but not uptight, and it rocks but it’s not what you’d hear blasting out of a 1974 Chevy Nova cruising down your street. Worth repeated listening.
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