After a long while of going into all-too-goofy pop, Weezer has been slowly steering back to the intense rock that made them so unique in the first place. Though the ground on this latest record is familiar, Weezer bring an arsenal of subtle and unexpected pop tools to keep this record fresh amidst the return to their roots. There’s fun to the weird, angular angst of “Shine Again,” which sees Weezer in the novel position of trying to bridge their vintage metal-punk with their more pop-oriented territory. Teaming up with the new torchbearers of their soft-to-walloping sound, “We Might as Well Be Strangers” finds Weezer knocking out their most emotionally poignant track in years with the help of Wednesday. The traded vocals, particularly with Rivers Cuomo’s weird affectations, creates a fun base to change their footing, although it gives Wednesday less space to shine. “C.E.O.” finds the band in a self-aware groove, reflecting on their dual mandate as a band and as human beings, while giving a kind of “Undone” flow amid the moody, heavy thrashing. There’s a Pinkerton-era bit of melancholic roar on “Say Yes” that feels like it earns its tones earnestly. Coming from a dire and immediate feeling, Cuomo gives you a sense that he’s at his end, and the song kicks to match this fury.
Hannah Georgas and Lyn Heinemann have found a powerful way to reignite their creative spark with their new project, So Faint. “Fully Slow” takes a sparse, percussion-driven approach that lets the lyrical charm of the track take centre focus. And that’s great because Georgas’ usual knack for delivering cutting lyrics with a calm and smooth voice that makes it feel like a hug and a slap all at once. The slip to a simpler guitar arrangement is also a fun return to earlier days for Georgas, who is taking her skills in a whole new sharp direction thanks to this collaborative energy. And with the duo tumbling around those tight but tension-filled harmonies, you can feel the synergy and the emotional power they’re wielding for the songs to come.
You can feel dozens of Ontario indie bands’ souls mixed into the sound of the latest Kiwi Jr. record, evoking several generations of music, while feeling like they’re saying something totally new by mixing all those colours into one brush. There’s a raw smirk and euphoria to just playing music on this record that feels so novel that the added kaleidoscope of nostalgic tones makes the experience all the better for the listener. There’s such a glowing sun to “Photos of Reenactment” that you want to soak it in and relax, but you’ll be too lost in the dance-ready grooves to sit still for long. There’s something particularly 2000s indie rock about the synths and guitars of “Blowin’ Up,” but it’s the overall sense of fun and swing in Kiwi Jr.’s bones here that makes the song such a quirky joy to listen to. That unbridled mischief continues in the silly keys of “Pure Michigan,” where the band revive an era of sheer fun in rock pop that feels untapped these days. “Painting After Painting” is a more personal track, letting the waves of love, connection, and excitement explode into the dynamic guitar and drum stings.
There’s a crispness as the guitars bounce off of Foster’s vocals on “Powerline,” creating a vibrant display of harmonies like the shimmer of stars and beams of light together. “Shy” glimmers with a jazzier drive, but also one that knows just how to make its punchy guitars stick in your mind with their unique kick and timbres. There’s a rushing joy to “Feel What I Feel” that Foster runs with, as she builds layers of voices and guitars till it feels like you’re following parallel trains across several instruments all over this track. The simple bite-sized pop of “Can I Come Live with You,” is refreshingly brief and to the point, as Foster shrinks things down to the most necessary popping moments, but never loses the soul and excitement in stripping things away.
Sometimes when you’re so good at pushing the intensity of your music higher, the only way to keep moving is to start pushing the limits of your softer sides. With a fleshed-out folk side to her latest record, Chelsea Wolfe makes her sound feel even more massive when it finally lets the rage out. The record starts with a slow roll of brooding acoustic folk in the sombre tones of “Cold,” as Wolfe slowly builds the instrumentation and lets the effects seep in until the final choruses have a magical level of layering that feels like nature communing with her. The base has a glorious roar on “Seethe” that immediately sets you on the warpath long before the drums kick the song up a whole other level. Once the track gains this rush, it alternates between a flailing beat and its volatile choruses that burst like firecrackers until there’s almost nothing left but noise. There’s a more subdued beauty in the restraint of “The Dark” that sees Wolfe really trying to find something in those acoustic guitar runs, and it serves those final glorious wails of the feedback to really take the song to a final and cathartic place. There’s an even more stark difference in the sparse tones of “Death Is Not the End,” that morphs into a demented beast in its final moments, with Wolfe crying out into the void with devastation all around her in the mix, to give a mesmerizing bit of contrast that you’ll never forget.
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