As their current swansong record, Tennis are leaving us with little time and just this last album to process all our emotions about them. Though there’s a little extra variety that comes out of them having to make all their final statements as a project, Tennis never overindulges in a tasteless or selfish way that takes away from the impact of this sendoff. Shifting from a moody, cascading set of harmonies to give an intro for the whole record, “At the Apartment” quickly explodes out into a cloudy neon daze, with the spoken-word section coming off like the other half of the story. There’s an enveloping weight to the synths and production on “Weight of Desire” that leaves you unable to move, but as the song gains motion and starts to burst from the seams with excitement you can feel the pleasure in getting lost in that same desire, rather than become suppressed by its pressure. “Sister” blends some older retro-focused Tennis charm with a lot of their current palette of timbres to make for a lush and warm track.
The angular punk chug of “Unsolicited Advice” starts off Laura Lee & The Jettes latest track with a pointed feeling, particularly given the unexpected shift in vocal duties. The whole thing plays more to a Baxter/Ian Dury type of track mixed with a band like Omni or Corridor, and a further cry from their previous work. Lee also lets the bass lead a lot of the charge here, with most of the other instruments running a kind of psychedelic colouring in the margins, and giving the track a more intentionally scatterbrained approach, like trying to process the titular random, and unwanted pointers.
While they’ve taken in a wealth of different flavours to their sound over the years, Mortal Primetime feels like a bit of a reflection point for Sunflower Bean. Mixing a lot of ends of their styles over the years with a little more commercial focus finds the band less potent in the writing, but hitting on a lot of easily catchy notes that just don’t perhaps feel as one-of-a-kind. “Champagne Taste” blends an older blown out Sunflower Bean with a very polished pop sound to let the band enjoy a little commercial gloss, while potentially losing a little of their unique points as a band. There’s a little more darkness and nuance on “Nothing Romantic” as they take some of their layered harmonies and blend them into more grinding rock, along with psychedelic riffs. “Waiting for the Rain” feels distinctly 70s inspired next to other songs here, and with a shift in vocal duties on this slower and more glowing sound, the band finds one of the shiniest gems on their record. Likewise, the soft and tender return to Fleetwood Mac and Doobie Brothers tones on “I Knew Love” pushes the band in more creative directions on all the small details of track, pulling out more strings and small vocal moments, as well as a dazzling piano run.
With a raw and unflinching power-rock charge, Peach pact come out roaring on “A.ajax,” with demented riffs seeming to groan in the background of every wail by the band. The power in the bass and chords is palpable in virtually every moment here, as the whole track buzzes your ears and shakes you awake to the danger around you. It’s that sense of loud and brash booming that plays to the track’s messages of catching on to life’s slow dissoloutoin of the self, as the band themselves try to use this explosive sound to wake you back up to your own personal realization. And those background calls near the end verge on some great Priests/Be Your Own Pet era yells to the fire.
While this latest Viagra Boys release is also a kind of overview of their sound up to this point, the Swedish outfit are able to hone in on palpable strengths and untrodden ground to make the most out of exploring their established energy. This is more a band at the peak of their powers knocking out more of what makes them great, with very little in the way of losing their edge in the process. There’s a playful fun to “Man Made of Meat” that goes right in on skewering media consumption culture and influencers, that while fitting into a formula the band has scratched out by now, does at least musically highlight how sharp their sound a more predictable song structure-wise. Though similarly goofy and fun, “The Bog Body” cuts through that pop-punk charge so assuredly you’re digging into the punchy brass, weird percussion fills and just how grimy that bridge is. They start to push things in more spacey and unique directions on “Uno II” as vocals run bassy in the spoken word, little yaps and flutes give us a delightful riff, and the looming duet section makes you want to chant along with them. While you get a more blown-out take on their riff-pop on “Dirty Boyz,” the twangy, western swing of “Pyramid of Health” is a more fun tremolo-drenched wander through the desert and our own uneven bodies.
