Imbued with a complex combination of little bits from lots of different acts that came before them, the new debut album from this Connecticut-based band feels like a comfortingly familiar rock n roll feast, but it’s also incredibly distinctive.
Opening with recent single Fibonacci, which stylistically operates in a similar arena to The Strokes, Pavement, The Cribs, Hot Hot Heat and early Arctic Monkeys, it gets off to an encouraging start with wiry guitars, tight drums, a steady bass and hooks for days.
The track also features some lyrical highlights like the opening couplet of “first time I met you I could hardly say my name / cold shivers down my spine, I could tell we’re not the same” and later, “everyone’s told you your beauty could make a killing / that’s not a dress babe, that’s a reason to keep living”. There are moments where the vocal veers into grungier territory, where frontman Harrison Berr adopts an almost Dave Grohl-like growl.
Special mention must also be made to the 60s girl-group-esque backing vocals on the track, which really elevate it and set it apart from other similarly coded tunes.
Hotshot is track two and is another prior single. Surprisingly, as it begins, it feels almost funky in its opening bars. Still channelling (some of) the bands mentioned previously, this intro sees the song feel much more groove-based before settling into a more identifiable ’00s indie vibe. Again, it features some fantastic lyrical moments (“that’s wholesale, that’s widespread, that’s the purpose of the human race”) delivered with a compelling combination of drawl and scream. The Datsuns are a band that don’t get talked about very often, but there’s more than a touch of their fantastic debut album referenced here.
The grungier/alt-rock feel that peppered the first track also appears here, as do those same backing vocals. There’s no denying it, these kids have got style. Hotshot is quietly anthemic and full of personality and charm, and the first two tracks have us very excited for the rest of the album.
The intro to Chimaera is cut from the same cloth as the gritty Arctic Monkeys classic When The Sun Goes Down, which further cements the stylistic palette that the band have been working with throughout the course of the album. The most downtempo track thus far, it oscillates between chilled and smooth in the verses and massive and scratchy in the chorus. It leads nicely into Little Bastard, which has a prominent bassline backing up the same kind of guitar tone found in the previous track.
Little Bastard introduces some squelchy effects to the mix, which is a change of texture that we didn’t anticipate – but don’t hate. Still eminently catchy, but clearly getting more adventurous, Little Bastard is less of a left turn and more of a slight bend, but their slight dalliance with psychedelic rock is a nice point of difference.
Chances follows and is a return to the style and sound that was quickly established in the album’s first couple of songs. Another song that was previously released as a single – it’s not hard to imagine why. Brimming with energy, style, soul and swagger, it reminds us of the Swedish band Mando Diao and their criminally underappreciated album Hurricane Bar, as well as rootsier American indie acts like early Kings of Leon and/or Alabama Shakes. Well-structured, excellently performed and beautifully produced, you can’t really ask for more. Special shout-out to the guitar solo in the final third – something the album hasn’t had a lot of, which makes it all the more impactful when utilised.
More Tomorrows follows and seems to take the tempo down slightly. Measured and considered, the songwriting here is as strong as what preceded it, but it feels different – less ramshackle, more precise. The grungy vibes return with a subtle, almost Dinosaur Jr-esque feel creeping in at times, combining with the previously established tones. Gabe Iasiello’s bass guitar on this one really lets rip, incorporating a Flea-like slap and twang towards the end. Full of boundless youthful enthusiasm and limitless spirit, this is unquestionably one of the album’s highlights.
Atlas is more than 6 minutes long and is the most sombre the band have been. Slinky and sultry, the instruments interweave satisfyingly, with grace and guile. It feels almost gothic in the intro, with the uncharacteristic smoothness sprawling out over the course of the song. Cristiano Oliveira’s guitars on this one feel unshackled but in no way out of control. Off the leash, but trustworthy, reliable, beautiful and well-behaved. The instrumental parts on this song are mesmerising and the best example of the band’s individual virtuosity.
Rover is only 86 seconds long. A hypnotic post-punk/indie fusion instrumental, it’s correct to say that it’s dominated by the bass (at least in the intro), but also that the balance here feels just right. It also features a saxophone (played by the band’s bassist) for what we think is the first time on the record so far; it is a lovely little interlude and a very welcome surprise. Like the Red Hot Chilli Peppers playing Radiohead – this is a beautiful thing.
Orange Foot is the penultimate track and keeps the Chilli Peppers vibe going but blends it with various other components. Soaring and scenic, this one feels like a bit of a journey, going through many different plains, patches and phases. From funk to grunge to punk to indie, you never know what’s coming next. Towards the end, the guitarists’ John Frusciante impersonation gets dialled up to 11, and the whole thing screams into the stratosphere. Shout out to the rhythm section of Logan on the drums and Gabe on bass, who hold the whole thing together beautifully.
The album closes with Fire Walk With Me, which returns to the rootsier feel of Chances – a space the band haven’t ventured into very much on this album, but when they have, it’s been very well realised. Choppy and jangly, the guitars on this one are the star of the show (and that’s before we get to the face-melting solo), but it’s equally important how well they work with the other parts. Everything here is in perfect harmony and, at exactly three minutes in length, the closing tune is perfectly proportioned and is a fitting end to this fantastic record.
Written by Kinda Grizzly
